


Son Of Rhudaur

by Ianeth



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Arnor, Gen, Rhudaur, Third Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-03-30 17:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 108
Words: 184,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3944797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ianeth/pseuds/Ianeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The decline and fall of the smallest of the Dunedain kingdoms of Arnor, as described in the memoirs of a soldier and descendant of minor nobility. Inspired by the descriptions of the gloomy ruins overlooking the East Road that Bilbo and Frodo passed on their way to Rivendell. Originally posted in part to HASA but now complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Barad Amon Sul, the 21st Day Of Hithui 1408

My name is Esteldir the outlander, or to some traitor and turncoat, but once, for a little while at least I was Esteldir son of Galdirion, of the House Of Rushwater Vale. I seen much in my time, much that is now lost , so I will set down my tale while I have the chance, in hope that those who follow after will know that not all of our people fell into evil.

I was born in the Northern Marches of Rhudaur in the year 1311 in the town of Forn Athrad, or Northford as it is known in the common tongue. My father was a soldier, as all men became in that time, and a won renown before he was lost. He was the youngest son of a noble house who had lived in one of the vales north of the Hoarwell for years uncounted, and could trace their line back to the faithful who came over the sea. They were never very wealthy but their lands were extensive and the fief provided them with a decent enough living from their herds of cattle and sheep along with the tithes from their villages. The youngest of three brothers, he would often wander in the forest alone. One hot late summer afternoon in the year 1304 he stumbled across something in the forest that nobody had seen for more than a thousand years in that part of the world - a small band of orcs. It was only pure chance that they did not see him and he managed to evade them, but when he returned home all thought he must have been mistaken.

It was not long however before news of other sightings and incidents reached them. Livestock stolen or slaughtered in the night, woodsmen and hunters who had not returned home when expected. Soon afterwards the first attacks on our country began in earnest. However by the time the orcs came to the great house itself by night my grandfather had set a watch and armed his household, so they were not taken by surprise like our poor neighbours in the next valley. My father had taken the watch that night and acted with great courage for a boy of thirteen, raising the alarm and killing three of the enemy with his bow. They were all eventually slain or driven away, but two of the household were wounded, one badly, the old ostler who died later that day.

My grandfather sent one of my uncles at once to Northford, which was a day’s ride distant, warning the lord there that they were under attack and asking for immediate aid. The following day his son returned alone, and did not bring good news. No men could be spared at the present time, the Vales were too remote and they were hard pressed closer to home. A messenger had however been despatched down the South Road to warn the king and ask him to send reinforcements, but until such a time as they arrived it would not be possible to send any help. My family had always kept a town house in Northford, for business or festival days, and my grandfather, cursing the gods in a black rage, decided without hesitation to send the women and children of the household there for their own safety. They left early the next day, my father too much to his dismay, although his older brothers were given leave to remain. The eldest, Galdir, was of an age to begin his army duty anyway and already had some skill at arms as was normal for any young man of good birth at that time. Haldor his brother was uncommonly quick and strong for his age. They were sent down to the villages in the Vale to call the fief’s landsmen to arms, and set them to organise watches and patrols of their own as best they might.

Two nights later, the orcs returned in much greater numbers, and things went ill. The ancient great house had been built in the traditional pattern, semi fortified with thick stone walls and high windows to the outside, surrounding an inner courtyard with a strong gate, so they did not yield easily. But there were too few defending, and too many coming up in the dark and eventually they got in and set the place afire. It would have been much worse but for a brave band of men from the villages who saw what was happening from afar and came up from the Vale to offer what help they could. The orcs that remained had no stomach for any more fighting and melted back into the night, but their work was done. My grandfather was badly wounded and brave Haldor was dead, killed by an arrow at the gate. Five more of the household were dead or dying, and our house, which had stood on that windy hill for nigh on a thousand years, was a blazing ruin. Many old and beautiful things perished that night, ancient tapestries and books, worked glass, musical instruments, and a wooden chest that was said to have come over the sea.


	2. Chapter 2

My grandfather was brought down to Northford, and for a little while it looked as if he might not live, but Carandir was a strong man and eventually recovered. He was never the same afterwards though, his shoulder had been smashed and he was left halt by an arrow wound to the thigh. Galdir remained behind in the vale to bury the dead and salvage what he could from the ruins. It was a heavy task for someone of his age, but he bore it bravely. He also ordered the landsmen gather in the flocks, telling them to keep some for themselves and drive the rest down to market as soon as could be managed. He also told them they were free to stay or go as they chose and released them from service and obligation until such time as order could be restored. Most chose to stay and take their chances at first, as it had been a fine growing summer and the harvest was likely to be a good one. It was the last one there would ever be in Rushwater Vale though, by the following spring they were all gone, driven out by the constant raiding.  
The house in Northford was a large enough by the standards of the time, but still rather crowded as it had never been intended as a permanent habitation for the whole family. It stood on the ridge below the keep, in a neighbourhood of narrow cobbled lanes and courtyards that had generally seen better times, many houses having fallen empty. Like most of the buildings in Rhudaur they were built out of the dark grey granite that formed the bones of the land seen everywhere in cliffs and crags,whilst it made excellent building stone it tended to give a rather sombre aspect to our towns and a grim one to our castles and keeps. Our house was brightly enough furnished inside though, and was a cosy and comfortable place. Shortly after Galdir had returned he had signed up for his army duty so was not there that often, and my father continued the studies and pursuits befitting of a youth of good family. I think though that he must have missed the hills and forest badly at first, but that hurt was softened a little by all the new friends his own age that he was able to make.

As autumn approached the force of soldiers that had been requested finally arrived from the south, led by a Captain Beldir, and made a fine sight marching into the town. The Keep had been built to house a much larger force than that which presently occupied it, so they had no difficulty installing themselves there. Their numbers were further swelled by a mobilisation of any trained men who could be spared from their livings in the region. Patrols were organised, some went upriver, some onto the moors, and some into the northern vales and the empty lands to the west. Several intercepted orc raiding parties and scattered them, they had come lightly armed to kill people unawares in the night, not face fighting men. 

Although Galdir had not been in service for more than a few weeks he had caught the eye of the captain, and he was allowed to join the patrol of Angon, who had been commander of the small force at the Keep before the reinforcements arrived. They crossed the river and headed due north up onto the vast northern moors with a force of about fifty. On the third day a small band of orcs were spotted a good distance away, and when they saw they were pursued turned and fled at speed. Much to Angon’s surprise they did not go east towards the misty mountains, but north and west towards the mountain spur which ran away from the main range and stood not far ahead. Known in the north as the Trollfangs, they were also nominally the northern boundary of Rhudaur, though it meant little in that bleak and windswept wilderness where none lived save a few reputed trolls. Although the orcs outran them and were soon lost their trail remained clear enough. Much to the surprise of his men Angon halted the pursuit early that day and set them to fortifying a likely defensible postion for a camp. He was no fool, and suspected correctly that if the large number of orcs who had been raiding the north had not come down the Hoarwell from the Misty Mountains then there must be another nest nearby and he wasn’t going to stumble blindly into it with only a small force. Instead he picked four of his best men, to work in pairs, one following the trail cautiously, and one following them at a suitable distance to try and bring word if things went ill. They stripped off their red surcoats so as to blend better into their surroundings and avoid any watching eyes and left before sunset the same day. They had orders to follow the trail for no more than two days should they not succeed in finding anything, and then return, as that was the limit of the company’s rations. The remainder of the men were set to sentry duty, and foraging, though there was little to be found in the empty land.

The men returned not long after noon on the fourth day, safe and sound, and they had found what Angon had suspected was there. They had lost the trail when they got in amongst the screes and boulder fields of the steep land just below the mountain peaks but had continued towards a high ridge that would give them a good view of the land beyond. And there down below them, in the shelter of the ridge they had topped where the Trollfangs swung round to the north was an encampment. It was large, apparently well ordered but did not appear to be strongly fortified or defended. A beaten road ran northward from it out into the vast plain, straight as an arrow for as far as the eye could see. Angon struck camp immediately and marched his men as fast as he could back to Northford.


	3. Chapter 3

Despite it already being autumn plans were put into place to mount an immediate campaign against this new and unlooked for enemy. An army was mustered at Lastbridge and marched north in late Ivanneth under the command of Prince Elion and Lord Barachon. They were joined on the North Road at Bearcliffe by a second host of Hill Folk who had come down from High Burgh in the Eastern Fells under the command of their chieftain Ulfur. He ruled the craggy lands that lay north of the East Road and between the two rivers, where only his folk lived, and gave his full allegiance to the King.

After a week of marching they reached Northford and joined with the force there. Upwards of six thousand men, mostly foot crossed the river a few days later and struck back southward on the far bank before turning into Rushwater Vale and climbing into the hills. Although further, the going was much easier than it would have been taking the direct route across the moors, and it meant they could go well equipped and provisioned with a heavy wagon train. After a fortnight, having skirted the moors to the east, they arrived on the easier terrain of the northern plain and split their force in two so as to close the camp in a pincer movement. Apparently taken by surprise, the numerous defenders made a sortie when they saw the Prince approaching from the south only to be smashed from the rear by the second force. There were many orcs in the enemy host, as expected, but also wild men who were the northern kin of the Hillmen. But it was the commander and his lieutenants, or those few who had survived the battle and the sack of the camp that followed it who were cause of the greatest surprise. They were clearly Dunedain, but their gear and manner of speech was unlike any they had ever seen before. Under none too gentle questioning it was learned that they came originally from a land far to the south, and were in service to the King Of Angmar in Carn Dûm, a great lord of true Numenorean lineage. Elion and his captains deduced from this that he must be some sort of black renegade, though why such should style himself thus and install himself in the bleak uttermost north was a mystery to them. Carn Dûm lay forty leagues or more away where the Misty Mountains ended in the northern plain. None save perhaps orcs had ever dwelt there in our time but it was reputed to be a place of ancient ruins, and it was said a terrible battle had been fought there at the end of the first age against the servants of the Dark Lord. That someone should now choose it as their seat and raise a host of orcs and wild men seemed very ill, and gave them all some pause for thought.

Prince Elion however resolved that they should march north immediately and test the strength of this new enemy, and was supported enthusiastically by Ulfur, although Barachon urged caution due to the season and the problems of resupplying their host in that vast empty land. It was decided that they would leave a holding force at the camp to guard their rear and march north up the road after a further day of rest and preparation. However late that evening a rider came in haste from the south bearing bad news. A large force of orcs from the Misty Mountains, who had hitherto played no part in events, had entered Eastern Rhudaur and were laying waste to the settlements of the Hillmen there and threatening the High Burgh. And as night fell a wind rose in the north and it began to snow heavily. When morning came it was still falling steadily and there was now enough lying to make a march difficult. Elion must have cursed his luck, but he had no choice now but to abandon all thought of marching on Carn Dûm, with half his force desperate to return south to defend their people, and the risk of becoming stranded with dwindling supplies by the unseasonal snow. He gave the order to strike camp with all haste and resolved that they would gather all their strength the following spring and come north again prepared for a long campaign. The Hillmen departed southward across the moors, taking the most direct route home, whilst the remainder of the host retraced their steps across the plain with some difficulty at first, though the snow soon eased noticeably as they moved south.

The Hillmen returned home and drove the mountain orcs back to where they had come from with great loss, and peace was restored for a time. The breaking of the camp must have been a significant blow for the King Of Angmar, for no orcs came south to trouble our people until well after the turn of the year, and then they were few in number and only troubled the remoter areas. It was an unusually hard winter though, the worst for a hundred years, and snow lay on the ground for several months and regularly blocked the roads and made travel impossible.

Galdir had shown great skill and courage during the brief campaign and was commended for it and quickly promoted to sergeant. My father must have been very jealous of his older brother when he returned home in his battle stained gear full of thrilling tales, as he was still to young to begin his own service. My grandfather Carandir continued to improve, and was able to resume managing our affairs. Without the tithes from our landsmen and with our flocks sold the family fortune was on the wane. However he was nothing if not canny, and with the proceeds from the sale of what remained of our flocks he bought some wains and oxen and hired some of his former folk who had come down to town to work them. He commenced trading and carrying goods up and down the North Road, including work for the army keeping the newly enlarged garrison at Northford well supplied. He also had an interest in a tannery just downriver which brought a small income so the family were able to maintain a good standard of living.

I have often wondered what would have happened if Prince Elion had marched north instead of turning back when he did, I cannot help thinking that it might have been possible to strike a serious blow against our foe at that time as all the signs are that he was still very much building his strength and vulnerable. And if we had seen the sense to make common cause with the other kingdoms and marched together on Carn Dûm, how differently things could have turned out. But it was not to be.


	4. Chapter 4

In the spring of 1306 there was a general call to arms, and our small Kingdom gathered its full might to strike a blow against our foe, but the wrong one. Considering the new threat to the north to be much diminished following the previous autumn’s campaign old King Eldaer had ignored his son’s pleas to return there and had instead turned his attention west to our longstanding grievance with Cardolan over the Weather Hills and the tower of Amon Sul. It was the home of one of the fabled seeing stone, and the masters of the tower were able to cast their eye far and wide and speak by thought to those who held other stones, however far away. As well as being our supposed ancient right, access to them would be a great aid in measuring and controlling any further threat that might come from Carn Dûm.

So brave Galdir marched to war yet again, along with Angon and many other good soldiers who had fought together at the battle of the camp in the north. Once again Ulfur led his host out of the Shaws and joined his strength to theirs on the North Road. By the time all were gathered outside Lastbridge the host numbered twelve thousand or more, but mostly foot and archers. Our mounted soldiery were few now, limited to the great and the good and their bodyguards for the most part. Our land, with all its steep crags and deep vales, did not lend itself to mounted warfare and our native horses were small and stocky, and whilst sound and strong lacked the speed and size to excel in that field. It did not however hamper us unduly that time, as we prevailed over the host Cardolan sent out to meet us on the West Road in a fierce battle and then took Amon Sul after a short siege. Once again Angon and Galdir, fighting side by side, covered themselves in glory, and were personally commended by Prince Elion for their part in the taking of the tower. They had noted a weakness in the defences and put all their strength against it in a surprise attack, which had succeeded and broken the resolve of the defenders. Our flag flew once again over the ancient tower, and the King himself came west a few weeks later to view his prize and look into the stone. It is said that those who have right to use the Palantir find them much easier to control and make sense of what they see, and despite his hopes it appears that Eldaer did not have that gift. His house was ancient, and pure enough Dunedain blood, but the true line of Isildur in Rhudaur had petered out only a few generations after the division of Arnor, and his line, though unbroken, had only been maintained by marriage. The truth of this was of course kept well hidden, and the master of the stone who had been captured and pressed into service for his new liege was able to lend his aid to some degree.

A large garrison was installed, at the tower and regular patrols were sent daily up and down the West Road which formed our long and vulnerable border with Cardolan there. However as the year waned, the threat from the north also began to increase again, and bands of orcs came raiding off the moors in increasing numbers. The King’s attention had been elsewhere, and his enemy in the north must have known it. Lord Beldir sent word south pleading for reinforcements again and eventually the northern host, including Angon and Galdir, were sent home up the North Road. I can only imagine the joy when Galdir, the battle hardened hero, returned at last to the house on the hill in Northford. My father Galdirion was almost of age and must have been eager to learn all he could of his older brother’s adventures, for it was almost time for him to pledge his own duty and take up arms too. There was a new member of the household to greet him there as well, as my grandmother Branniel had engaged a new handmaid, who went by the name of Faelneth. She was young, the same age as my father, and very pretty with a keen wit. She was of Hillman stock but there was surely a smattering of Dunedain in there too when you saw her eyes and the way she carried herself. There was nothing unusual in that in our land at that time as intermarriage was commonplace, and even unavoidable. Although I suspect my father had designs on her even then, she had only eyes for the returning warrior, and he soon returned her interest. My grandmother scolded them both unmercifully though, as far as she was concerned her firstborn would have a fitting match with the daughter of a notable family, not some peasant girl out of the Shaws, however comely.

Galdir was soon back on duty, patrolling across the river and hunting down the orc bands and destroying them wherever they found them. Once again the enemy were driven back, and the attacks lessened in frequency and severity. However by this time a large part of the previously settled lands north of the Hoarwell were empty. The population of the settlements south of the river was swelled by their numbers and Northford in particular became a crowded, bustling place once more. 

As another surprisingly bitter winter set in, Amon Sul remained in our hands and no attempt had been made to wrest it back from us. For those with the wit to read it the Palantir would have revealed the main reason why, and also why we had once again driven the orc raiders back with so little apparent trouble. The King Of Angmar had turned his attention to Arthedian at that time and decided to test his growing strength against the strongest of the three Kingdoms. At this time a peace treaty was made between Cardolan and Arthedain, and Cardolan sent a large force up the King’s Road to aid their new ally. A large force of men and orcs had come out out of Carn Dûm, crossing the plain and coming down the North Downs toward Fornost. However they had been scouted, or even witnessed in the seeing stone there, and the defence was well prepared. Once again the King Of Angmar’s forces were driven back with great loss. 

In Rhudaur though I fear this lull was once again misread, and in the spring of the next year a force came unlooked for up from the south out of Cardolan and took the settlement of Halfway Hill on the West Road, cutting off our garrison, whilst a second host came cross country down the weather hills and laid siege to the tower. Realising his position was hopeless, given that it would take some time before a relief could be attempted, the captain there capitulated. When the news of this swift and unexpected defeat reached our King, he was enraged. Once again he ordered his armies to mobilise, and Galdir, Angon, and Ulfur and his folk marched south once again.


	5. Chapter 5

A few weeks later, just after midsummer, Prince Elion and Lord Barachon marched their host straight down the West Road and into a trap. Just outside Halfway Hill the combined hosts of Arthedain and Cardolan fell on them from the cover of the forest either side of the road. Strung out as they were, unable to form up and beset from all sides the outcome was inevitable. The losses were not so great as they might have been, as many men managed to flee into the wild or back the way they had come, but they were still severe. And amongst them, run down by the mounted knights of Arthedain during the first charge, was Galdir. The ever faithful Ulfur was also slain, alongside his best men, felled whilst protecting the retreat of the Prince.

The news was understandably taken very hard back in Northford. Angon it was who returned wounded several weeks later after an anxious wait to give them the tidings they had feared the most. They mourned bitterly, and Carandir, broken once again by grief for the loss of a son fell ill again for a time. My father, who had just commenced his service at the Keep greeted the news with dry eyes and cold fury and swore vengeance, while Faelneth also grieved, far more than would have been expected for one of her station. They did not even have the comfort of laying him to rest. He had probably been stripped of his arms and buried in a pit somewhere near the road with his fallen comrades, unnamed and unmarked, the mighty and the lowly together, all levelled by death. So ended the best of us, who knows what he could have become or how high he could have risen if fate had dictated otherwise, but I have been in enough battles myself to know that living or dying can turn on the smallest of things. In him the blood of the west ran as true as it ever did in our land, and our land grew ever poorer as the years passed from the constant loss of such men.

Already advanced in years, King Eldaer took the defeat and the near loss of his son very hard and began to ail. Many seasoned fighting men had been lost both in the taking of the tower, and the failed attempt to retake it, and the defeat had now effectively lost him all his lands west of the river. Cardolan held the road and the settlement of Halfway Hill, annexing that part of the kingdom, and although their writ did not run far to the north of it, the remaining lands to the west of the Hoarwell were basically an empty wilderness.

Things did not go so well for Eldaer in the east of his Kingdom either, Ulfraer had succeeded his father as Chieftain at the High Burgh and where his father had been bold and wholehearted, he was altogether a more thoughtful and calculating sort. He had also fought in the battle on the West Road and seen how his father and his best warriors perished saving the prince and it rankled with him, with some justification, that the brave deed went unrecognised afterwards. 

But it was only the latest in a growing list of grievances. The Hillmen of Rhudaur had long given their loyalty to the Dunedain Kings of Lastbridge in recognition of the betterment and prosperity the settlers from the west had brought their forefathers. In exchange they provided the majority of the manpower to run the Kingdom and protect it, as the Dunedain were always in a minority in the east of Arnor, and they continued to dwindle after the division in the ninth century. This decline exacerbated the situation, especially when some of the ruling Dunedain caste, seeing their authority and privileges under threat began to actively suppress the Hillmen and prevent their advancement in the life of the Kingdom. In my grandfather’s time such things were unheard of, and frowned upon. In wiser times both Hillman and Dunedain, and also the Plainsmen and Smallfolk who inhabited the south of the kingdom in the angle between the rivers, lived alongside each other cordially and without rancour. 

Things had already taken a turn for the worse by the time I was born, and I had a unique viewpoint, given that I belonged to both peoples. In this Ulfraer was a man of his time, and in some ways can be forgiven for his later actions. But I have no doubt that spies and messengers from Angmar must have begun paying court in High Burgh soon after he took his father‘s place, speaking seditious words and spreading discontent. The northern kin of the Hillmen in the service of Angmar would easily have been able to pass our borders unremarked disguised as hunters or traders. 

At the Keep, my father Galdirion was proving to be another worthy recruit, though he lacked the speed and strength of his older brother. He was part of the intake of lads from across the north marches who had reached the age of 16 by the first day of Lothron, and were obliged by law and tradition to spend a year in military training and service. In times of peace they could then either continue that service if they chose to, or return to the life that awaited them at home as a reservist to be called to arms as needed. However the army was also regularly used as a source of manpower to maintain the Kingdom’s keeps, bridges and roads, and sometimes mobilisations were carried out for these purposes too. As well as a grounding in the various types of combat and archery and a punishing regime of runs and forced marches to improve their strength and stamina the recruits also received a basic education of sorts. They received lessons about the Kingdom and its history, about the code of honour and the just conduct of war, and the more apt also got the chance to learn some letters. As many of them were country boys, or from the wilder parts of the Shaws this was a sometimes doomed attempt to broaden their horizons and give them some sense of what they were being asked to fight and possibly die for. Of course Galdirion needed no such education, and he was a zealous pupil, already skilled at arms, and thanks to his early wanderings in the lost forests of his former home had a particular talent for woodcraft and tracking. There was only one other who rivalled him in that year’s intake, a great brute of a youth from High Burgh called Cenric. What he lacked in training he made up for in strength, speed and cunning, and they became great rivals, often pitched against each other in training bouts, where neither could claim the upper hand for long. Their initial grudging respect gradually blossomed into a firm friendship despite their completely different backgrounds. 

As year waned and their training progressed things once again began to worsen across the north, and the number of orc bands coming down the vales and off the moors began to increase again. Lord Beldir sent word down the road that more men were needed in the north, and by that autumn the size of the garrison had increased to two thousand. The Keep was full to bursting, men were continually coming and going on their patrols, and a constant stream of supply wains travelled up and down the South Road, which was of course good news for our family’s fortunes. As winter approached and the six month period of training ended my father and his colleagues were sifted and assigned to various companies, and swore their oaths of allegiance to king and land. Galdirion was a soldier at last, like his renowned brother, something he had yearned for for a long time. Following their swearing in the new soldiers were given a two weak leave of absence and allowed to return to their homes and families. His training and new status had made quite a change in him, and on his return to the family home he was pleased to note that pretty Faelneth also seemed to notice this. They ended up spending as much time together as Branniel would allow, which was not much, but by the time Galdirion made the short return journey to the Keep sweet words had been exchanged between them, and safe return promised.


	6. Chapter 6

Having noted his aptitudes, Captian Angon had assigned my father to a unit of scouts whose often dangerous task it was to track and locate orc bands and spy out the movements of the enemy in the wild country. Despite his youth he soon earned the respect of his more seasoned brothers, fighting fiercely in his first real combat with the enemy a week after he had joined them. He was good with the bow, and had a hunter’s patience, being able to remain quiet and still for long periods waiting in ambush or attempting to evade the enemy whenever the tables turned. They often roamed high up on the moors and even into Angmar at times. Only small groups of two or three were sent on these missions, travelling by night for the most part, and occasionally they did not return. My father proved especially adept at this sort of work, for what he lacked in the strength and power of his fallen brother he more than made up for in cunning and speed of thought. The tales he brought back from the north were never good though, the King Of Angmar grew in strength and where once a small host might have held the day there were now stone fortifications and towers, and an enemy mustering in much greater numbers than they had ever seen before. 

The next winter was a cruel one, and for three months the snows kept the soldiers in their barracks and the orcs in their dens, and the North Marches Of Rhudaur had a brief respite. With spring however came news of the death of the King, Eldaer had finally succumbed. I do not know how well he would have been mourned in our house, I am sure my grandfather held him responsible in some measure both for the lack of preparedness that had cost him his lands and the life of one son, and the ill fated adventure that had cost him another.  
So Prince Elion became King Elion, and was crowned at Lastbridge with great ceremony, and Ulfraer came down with a retinue from High Burgh to swear his allegiance and fealty, as far as it went. He then went on a grand tour of his new realm, or what remained of it first south to Watersmeet in the Angle, then to the Elfford, then up the North Road to Bearcliffe. What reception he would have received had he made it as far as High Burgh or Northford I cannot say, but the weather had been foul for days and he ate something that disagreed with him and fell ill and decided to call a halt and return home. So began his inauspicious reign, whilst he had been a passable leader of men under arms he did not have the patience or temper required for statecraft, and was likely ill advised to boot by the likes of Barachon.

Another hard winter followed, and then a fine spring. Galdirion the scout was now an experienced soldier, tempered by the great hardships he continually endured in the wilds. The regard that had grown between him and Faelneth soon blossomed into love, for the time they had together was always short, and as it is in time of war they never knew whether each parting might be their last. Branniel, seeing how much happiness and surcease it brought her son, and knowing the girl’s better qualities only too well eventually softened her opposition to the match, but I suspect still secretly hoped to claim a Dunedain maid for him eventually. My grandfather had no such misgivings, and teased the pair of them mercilessly and often laid plots with them against Branniel in order that they might steal some time alone together. He knew only too well how precious and shortlived their happiness might be.

Later that year though he had cause to rue that leniency, and Branniel certainly did. Faelneth came to them in trepidation one day in late summer and admitted to them that she was now with child. There was much fury, dismay and debate in the house, and many tears were shed. Branniel at first was all for sending her back to her people in the Shaws, but Carandir would not hear of it and gradually began to win her round, the baby was his blood regardless and he thought well of the girl anyway. When my father next returned from duty he completed the task of changing his mother‘s heart, crying out with surprise and delight when he heard the news and immediately proposing that they be wed. After that she grudgingly admitted defeat and gave them her blessing, and they were quickly married by Lord Beldir in a simple ceremony at the Keep, accompanied by a small group of comrades and friends.

So the heir of one of the Kingdom’s oldest families, who could trace their line back unbroken to one of the faithful of Westernesse who came out of the storm in one of Isildur‘s ships, was wed to a penniless wench. But in truth he was no longer an heir to much, and she was far more than a wench, and I arrived, in rude health and bawling at the top of my voice seven months later. They named me Esteldir, a sign of hope in difficult times, and my own story is begun at last.


	7. Chapter 7

My earliest memories are snatches of life at the house in Northford. My mother, laughing, warm and soft with her cloud of dark curly hair, my grandfather, impossibly old, his eyes bright and twinkling and ever ready with a jest, my grandmother, one moment stern and then next kind and gentle, and my father, who I saw seldom. I was even a little afraid of him whenever he returned home in his battle dress, but then he would change into a tunic and bounce me on his knee or throw me in the air and I would scream with delight, and he would laugh a deep rich laugh and kiss me on the brow. I had as happy and secure a childhood as any could wish for, and far better than most had in that time. 

Once I was old enough my grandfather took my education in hand, and I learned my letters, and my history, and Sindarin and even a little Quenya. I was a willing pupil and like any boy of that age loved to listen to his tales of long ago, learning the names of the old kings and the many battles they had fought. The elves fascinated me most of all, for I had never seen any, and the tragic story of the costly and heroic defeat of Sauron The Black where might men fought alongside them was my favourite. My grandfather told me that at the founding of the North Kingdom there had been great commerce and friendship between the Dunedain and the elves of Rivendell, and also the small remnant that remained for a while across the river in Eregion. But once the Kingdom was divided they became estranged, and though they still regularly passed along the Great Road and often stayed at the inns of Lastbridge and Elfford they kept themselves to themselves. There had also been trouble when Eldaer’s grandsire had introduced tolls on the Last Bridge and attempted to levy them from the Firstborn along with all others who passed through. Some blood was shed as a result and an emissary was sent from Rivendell to forcefully dispute their right to do so. He had stated that as the bridge predated the kingdom and had been in customary use by the Elves who had enjoyed free passage in all that time that Rhudaur had no right to demand payment for its use. Rather in awe of his splendid guests the king reluctantly acceded to their demands, but it further soured relations between the two peoples.

Where our neighbourhood had once been quiet and sad and full of empty houses it now bustled and thrived, full of noise and life and dirt. Many hundreds of displaced families from the lands north of the river now inhabited the large town houses with their small gated courtyards and balconies, and very few were the rightful owners. My grandmother in particular was appalled by the turn of events and what she perceived as the coarseness and lack of quality in her neighbours, but she did pity them for the lives they had been forced to flee and would never return to, something she very much had in common with them. For my part though it gave me an endless supply of playmates, and as soon as my morning’s study was complete I would go out and find them and set off on a new adventure. We roamed through the town, pretending to be scouts or warriors hunting down orcs. I was forbidden though to leave the walls, or cross the river on the plank causeway, or stray into the great semi permanent army camp that had sprung up on the water meadow east of the town. Once I got a little older our soldiering games gained a little more spice when I was accepted into the Uphill Clan, and we regulatly hunted and did battle with the Downhill Clan. The Downhill Clan of course inhabited the area around the marketplace and the riverside, and we all lived along the ridge around the Keep, and though we considered them poorer and coarser than ourselves because we could look down on them in truth you probably couldn’t have chosen between us. I quickly learned when and how to fight and when it was wiser to beat a retreat, and frequently returned home with a bloody nose or a black eye, to my mother’s horror and my grandmother’s great disapproval. However my grandfather seemed to recognise that there would be no avoiding such things in the future that most likely awaited me, and went easy on me. And my father on his brief returns home would take me out into the countryside and secretly teach me the skills of unarmed combat and wrestling, and we spent many happy afternoons in sunny meadows together, tussling and laughing, and I put what he taught me to good use in between times. He also took me into the forest and showed me how to track and hunt, and shared his love of the wild with me. It must have been sweet indeed for him to wander as he did in his youth with me at his side, sharing those rare moments of peace and my wonder and joy.

It was not long however before even the forests south of the river became unsafe, and our little forays were ended. Despite the ever increasing size of the Northern Army, the orcs out of Angmar had the ascendancy again and were now regularly crossing the Hoarwell upriver of Northford and harrying the previously peaceful lands to the south of it and along the South Road. They also had free rein in Western Rhudaur and raided along the West Road near Lastbridge and also presumably against any forces Cardolan still maintained near Halfway Hill. Although it was perilous to attempt it for the most part they also crossed the Hoarwell occasionally between Bearcliffe and Lastbridge and made mischief there as well, stretching the Kingdom’s defences to the limit and interrupting the supply trains that kept the northern army fed and equipped. A second threat also began to emerge, as bands of brigands coming out of the Shaws also began to raid and steal from the supply trains. The Chieftain in High Burgh still swore fealty to the King in Lastbridge, but I do not doubt now that he was behind this. My grandfather began to suffer considerable losses as a result, and had to pay his waggoners much more for the risk they ran, and his income began to dwindle.

Finally in the spring of 1318, King Elion bestirred himself and took action. Remembering the victory he had gained thirteen years before, and the lost opportunity to march north and rid himself of the upstart once and for all, he raised as great a host as could be mustered and set off up the North Road once again. Having every reason to wish themselves rid of the orc raiders as well, despite any grievances they might harbour, Ulfraer raised a great host of his own folk as his father had done before him and met the King on the road at Bearcliffe.

I can still vividly remember the sight of the great camp they made at Northford, and their endless ranks marching across the river on the plank bridge and the horses and the oxen pulling the supply wains wading and splashing through the river alongside. A great crowd of townspeople had gathered on the road and along the riverbanks to cheer them on and wish them safe return. I had never seen anything like it, and I wished dearly that I could have joined them, wearing my proud red surcoat blazoned with the black bear of Rhudaur and bearing bright steel to slay our wicked foes. It was decided that hostilities would be temporarily suspended between the town’s clans for the duration of this campaign.

My father was not actually amongst the marchers, he and his fellow scouts had already gone north the week before to clear the way for what would be our great push to rid ourselves of the enemy in the north. Before he left, Lord Angon, now master of the Keep and Town once again, had raised him to Captain and put him in command of his own company.


	8. Chapter 8

Almost ten thousand men crossed the river and went north up the vales, the largest host Rhudaur had raised in many an year. Even the force that had taken Amon Sul had not been as large, the south had been emptied and although provision had been made to protect those left behind in the north, King Elion had gambled, perhaps correctly, that the approach of such a host would have his enemy drawing back all his forces to prepare a defence. This time though he did not have the advantage of surprise, and the columns were continually harassed by small bands of orcs, though my father and his scouts continually turned the hunters into the hunted.

At midsummer they reached the corner where the Trollfangs swung north, and the site of the battle of the camp. A fortress had sprung up there in the intervening years, and it was well defended. Once again the forces of Angmar sallied out to meet them on the plain, and though much greater in number and much better prepared this time the outcome was still the same, and they soon retreated back inside their walls. Elion and Barachon did not however lay siege to it, as the King Of Angmar might have hoped, but leaving a token force to guard the stronghold and carry word of any foray in their rear, struck immediately up the road towards Carn Dûm.

In three days they had followed the road out into the great plain beyond the end of the mountain ridge and met little resistance, sacking a couple of way stations and encampments as they went. Carn Dûm was no more than six or seven days march down the good paved road that now took them that way, and they were well armed and well provisioned for a long campaign. The land was flat, and marshy in places, with scattered stands of trees and the occasional line of low hills to break the monotony. In the far distance to their right the unnamed peaks of the northern Misty Mountains marched off into the mist. All unnamed save one, Gundabad, long known as a great orc citadel, and Elion guessed that the King Of Angmar would rely on aid from that quarter and kept especial watch on that flank.

The following day they came into populated lands with scattered farms and settlements, and eventually to a small town of the Northmen which was quickly sacked and burned. The far end of the mountains, where Carn Dûm lay, was now clearly visible through the haze to the north. Elion and Barachon realised that the reply could now not be long in coming and deployed their host along a low ridge above what remained of the sorry town in preparation. Their scouts, some of whom were now mounted, soon returned with news of a great host pouring down the road towards them, led by a mighty knight in shimmering armour. Elion rejoiced, it seemed his foe had come at last to meet him on the field of battle.

The following dawn revealed just how great the power of Angmar had become, and as the sun rose in a cloudless blue sky his heart must secretly have quailed, though he hid it well. Like him, the King Of Angmar had thrown all his strength into the fray, and his forces must have outnumbered the men of Rhudaur two to one.

Angmar made the first move, sending wave upon wave of orcs and northmen up the slope towards their lines, but the archers did their work and the centre held firm. Three times more they surged forward and were beaten back with heavy loss, and then Elion mounted his horse, put on his helm and led the counter charge. The men of Rhudaur, seasoned fighters and many thirsty for revenge, carved through the enemy lines at first but were slowed by the sheer weight of numbers of the enemy. In the midst of the press, Elion and his mounted guard fought fiercely and sought to come up against the enemy king. At first he was nowhere to be seen, but then there was a lull in the fighting where they stood and he was there, flanked by a guard of his own in fine Numenorean Armour. He was the tallest man Elion had ever seen, and wore a rich suit of armour and sat astride a large and magnificent horse. Elion lifted his visor and called out .‘Sir, I demand satisfaction for all the wrongs you have done my Kingdom and my people. Let us cross swords and see justice done’. The King Of Angmar laughed a rich, deep, melodious laugh, and raised his own visor. He had the most beautiful face Elion had ever seen, wise, ageless and full of sadness, with eyes like bottomless wells, framed by long white hair. He felt suddenly unworthy and in the presence of greatness beyond his understanding, mere king of a dung heap rather than that of an ancient Dunedain realm. ‘Begone worm’ the enemy King uttered with sudden fury. ‘It is I who am the injured party, and you and your ragged band of thieves and murderers who will pay’. And with that slammed his visor shut and spurred his horse forward onto them drawing steel as he went, followed closely by his guard. Fortunately for Elion two of his knights came against the enemy king before he could and both fell rapidly beneath a hail of blows from his longsword. Elion was nothing if not brave in battle though and engaged his foe, trading blow for blow in the first few moments. But then the other’s greater reach and strength paid and he took a strike on the helm which he could only partially parry and which knocked him out of the saddle. He fell to earth with a crash and lay motionless, blood seeping from under his dented helm. That would have been the end of him there and then, as his enemy rode up and prepared to finish him, but at that moment horns blared, a cheer went up and all around them the orcs and northmen began to turn and flee the field. The King Of Angmar paused, raised his visor for a moment, saying ‘Not today then’ and once again laughed his rich deep laugh. Then he turned his mighty horse and vanished into the melee with what remained of his bodyguard.


	9. Chapter 9

Rhudaur had won the day on the Northern Plain, but the price had been high. As the sun set in west the King remained insensible and could not be roused, and more than one tenth of his forces lay dead on the battlefield The price their enemy had paid was much higher however, and my father had played a full part. When the captain leading the centre where the fighting was at its fiercest was slain the line began to falter. My father, who with his scouts had been commanded to assist the archers in the rear, saw what was happening and called his men forward, rallying the regular soldiers and then leading the counter charge which eventually turned the tide. Word of his deeds soon reached Lord Barachon, who had assumed command in the King’s stead, and he was brought before him and commended for them  
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The sun had set from a cloudless summer sky, but when the camp stirred in the morning a thick fog had descended which grew worse during the day, and made the hard job of clearing the battlefield of their dead and burying them all the more difficult. There was an unseasonal chill in the air, men lost their way even whilst performing simple errands, and it soon became impossible to set an effective guard or watch for the movements of the enemy. That enemy soon returned, creeping out of the fog in twos and threes and picking off men unawares, or lying in wait amongst the slain on the battlefield and leaping up to take them by surprise. When the fog still did not lift the following day, and the increasing number of attacks by the enemy began to take a noticeable toll, Barachon ordered that all should withdraw from the field and remain in the main camp until it cleared. He began to suspect, but could hardly credit, that this was no ordinary fog. Two days later it was still there, as thick as ever. His men were becoming restive, speaking of sorcery and unable to shake off the chill which seemed to seep into their very marrow and sap their spirits. The King remained unconscious, but began to babble from time to time as if dreaming. He was pale and feverish and wasting rapidly.

Barachon was in a quandary. Only a few days before he and the King had won a great victory and broken the host of their foe despite being heavily outnumbered. The road north to the enemy’s citadel stood clear. Yet here he was effectively blinded, his King and childhood friend dying, unable even to complete the task of burying his own dead, and with the enemy ceaselessly harassing his camp. Ulfraer had come to him in an agitated state that morning and given him an ultimatum, that if the fog remained on the morrow he would strike camp and march south, with or without the main host. The Hillmen were superstitious and what was happening was affecting them badly. Barachon cursed him but knew that he had no choice but to accede.

He had been present when the Kings met on the field and clashed, and I cannot but suspect that the meeting with the mighty King Of Angmar had made a great impression on him. He may have commanded a host of foul orcs and low men but he was clearly of the noblest Numenorean lineage, and a peerless warrior. And his guard and commanders were all high bred western men too, Barachon had supervised the torture of the captives from the camp the last time he had led an army north and had learned much of them before they were put to death.

The following day dawned as drear and obscure as all those before it, and the army struck camp and prepared to move south. The King was placed on a supply wain in the centre of the column and a strong guard arranged around it. The rest of the line was under strict orders to march in silence unless absolutely necessary, and a screen of scouts marched within earshot ahead, beside and behind them, orienting themselves by the sound of footfall and the creak of wagons and gear. They had a perilous task, with no means of finding their way without the sounds from the road, and little time to cry out a warning should the enemy come upon them out of the murk. My father told my grandfather later that that those days of marching, with nerves stretched taught hour after hour, and the hard camping strung out along the road that followed each night, were amongst the hardest he ever had to endure. Several of his men vanished, each day presumed either slain or strayed, and there was no possibility of returning to look for them. At one point he too suddenly found himself in deathly silence, unsure of his bearings. He had been following the rearguard at a distance, having taken on one of the most dangerous role for himself. As soon as he realised his situation he had had fallen to the ground to try and hear what he could. At that moment he became aware of the snuffling of an orc scout coming out of the gloom behind him, and barely had time to draw steel before the enemy nearly stumbled over him. The scout died with a shriek, and the silence returned. He waited, heart pounding, for a few long moments to see what the noise might bring down on him, but no further shapes emerged from the fog. Praying that he guessed correctly and had not veered to much to the west he tentatively set off again and in a few more minutes stumbled very gratefully onto the road. He set off at a steady jog until he was hailed by a sentry riding the rearmost wain in the column. He climbed in and took a quick meal with the soldiers before dropping back off and resuming his lonely watch.

The march through the fog was agonisingly slow, and the column barely travelled four leagues the first day. On the morning of the second day a large force of orcs attacked the front of the column, but thanks to the scouts they did not have the advantage of a complete surprise and they were beaten back with minor loss. In the afternoon a second attack came out of the fog, better organised this time and preceded by a hail of arrows. The night that followed was punctuated by shots out of the dark and screams and yells that made rest impossible. The men were at their wits end, and fights began to break out amongst them too. Barachon, wondering that victory could so quickly be turned into a near rout, was forced to make an example of a few offenders to maintain discipline. And then, on the third day of the march as they approached the northern end of the Trollfang range the men in the van suddenly felt a breeze on their faces, and golden glow grew in the fog ahead of them. They marched out into warm summer sunshine, and felt a sudden heady lifting of their spirits.and a great cheer went up. In front of them the road and the mountains marched south towards home. Behind them, if they cared to look, the sudden edge of a great bank of fog stood like an uncanny grey wall. If Barachon had doubted its unnatural provenance before now, he did so no longer, and he knew in his heart of hearts that this was a foe with a power they could never hope to best. As if to confirm his fears the King awoke from his swoon almost as soon as he emerged into the warm summer sunshine. He was very weak, but otherwise hale, and was immediately able to take some food and drink.

That evening the force they had left watching the fortress came up the road in haste and seemed surprised to find them so far south. A sortie had been made, and a host was marching up the road behind them. Ulfraer was with Barachon when the messenger arrived. ‘Sorcerers are one thing’ he roared ‘but men and orcs are another entirely, let us make this demon king pay dearly for what he has made us suffer‘. And so they did, taking the much smaller enemy force by surprise and crushing them, before capturing their fortress and destroying it.


	10. Chapter 10

I can remember clearly the day the army marched from the north and crossed back over the river. There had been a thunderstorm the night before and the day was pleasantly cool under an overcast sky. There were puddles in the streets and the air was fresh and full of sharp scents, more pleasant than usual as the downpour had washed much of the filth away. The garrison scouts had brought the news back over the river and the bell had been sounded in the Keep. We abandoned an arithmetic lesson, left the house and set off down the hill towards the market place, joined by an ever growing throng. I was full of excitement, but the rest of my family were unusually quiet, and after a while my grandfather gently told me to hush my babbling. We joined the crowd waiting just outside the north gate, and I climbed onto a wall for a better view. We did not have too long to wait, soon horns sounded just out of sight across the river and then a cheer went up from the people around us. There they were, the vanguard with the king and his knights mounted in the van with their banners flying and a great column of red surcoated foot marching behind them in a forest of spears. They disappeared behind the buildings on the far side of the river and then re-emerged on the wooden causeway that ran across the ford and were soon upon us. A chant of ‘Rhudaur Rhudaur’ went up and the King came past first, his horse skittering a little at the sudden noise and movement of the crowd. He looked tired and ill to me, and not very magnificent at all, but the soldiers round him made up for that a little. Soon they were gone and it was the regular foot soldiers who were coming past, rank after rank, with the crowd calling questions to them, and a few answering where they could. No, they had not taken Carn Dûm, but yes they had tasted victory and given the enemy a lesson he would not forget. Others cried out for news of their loved ones, but of course they would have been fortunate indeed to receive a reply among so many. As the column continued to cross the river the appearance of the soldiery became more variable, and of course there were also large numbers of Hillmen from the Shaws who did not wear a fixed style of gear at all. I was fascinated to see them all, but like the rest of my anxious family it was the drab cloaks of the Scouts that I searched for. At last those we had been looking for came into view in the hubbub, and there marching at their head alongside his fellow captains was my father. He too looked weary and careworn, but my heart swelled with pride to see him so stern and fierce and I had no doubt of his heroism. Before anyone could react I dropped from the wall, crawled rapidly through the sea of legs and out into the street to where he was. He uttered a cry of joy and swung me into the air and onto his shoulders and I was carried along in the column past the cheering throng and up the hill to the Keep, deliriously happy.

Soon we were all reunited and there were many hugs and tears and many questions and a few jests. We all walked the short walk together back down through the throng in the main street, with me walking proudly next to my father. Quite a few people called his name and acknowledged him, and I took this as further proof of his status as a hero. Most of those around us were joyful but one small group in particular sticks in my mind, gathered closely around a young woman with long blonde tresses who was doubled over by a doorway, sobbing and wailing. Even at the tender age of seven I knew what this must mean, and I had felt the tension in my mother and grandparents as they waited anxiously to see if my father would be amongst those who returned. Although I knew it was not manly I took his hand and he returned the clasp firmly and tenderly.

The next few months were amongst the happiest in my life. My father was given twelve weeks leave of absence in recognition of his service and spent the whole of the autumn with us. He spent a lot of time with me and I got to know him much better than I ever had before. Despite our happy doings together he always seemed a little sad, and I awoke once or twice in the night thinking I had heard him cry out. It made my love for him all the more fierce. 

Eventually it was time for him to leave us again, and one dim morning he changed back into his drab scout gear, gathered up his arms and pack and left to make the short journey back up the lane to the Keep. I think the parting was a little less bitter for my mother and grandparents this time, as there had been virtually no incursions from the north since the army had returned and a peace of sorts had returned for the time being. Many of the men in the northern army had been allowed extended leave as a result and the camp by the river and the Keep were both half empty. It seemed that once again the forces of Carn Dûm had been dealt a severe blow and been forced to draw back, and maybe there was some truth in this, but I also think the King Of Angmar had decided to turn his attention westward to Cardolan and Arthedain for a while, the schemes and plots he had begun to set in train would have to do for now where we were concerned. Cardolan in particular began to suffer much raiding, with the open and poorly defended lands between the South Downs and the Hoarwell bearing the brunt of the enemy attacks. It was a fertile land of rolling wooded hills and grassy plains, sparsely populated with scattered farmsteads and villages, and the raiders met with little resistance, and what help was summoned came too late for many. The forces of Angmar passed at will down through western Rhudaur and across the great east road, pillaging, murdering and burning, just as they had years before in the north of our Kingdom.


	11. Chapter 11

The winter that followed that Autumn was fierce indeed, great drifts of snow filled the streets of the town, and my father came home for Yule and remained with us for several weeks. None could go abroad easily and all thoughts of war were forgotten. It was never discussed in my presence but I did notice that our meals became smaller and far less interesting for quite a while, but I had enough good sense not to complain about it. Eventually the snows eased, the supply wains were able to make it up from the south again, and my father went back to his duties. We all prayed that the uneasy peace would continue with the arrival of spring.

Then, in early Spring before the trees had burst into leaf, came a day that I will never be able to forget. We had eaten our evening meal, and were all gathered by the fire, my grandparents, my mother and me. At my grandfather’s prompting I was doing my best to read to them from the Lay Of Earendil out of a heavy leatherbound book with beautiful illustrations, to some amusement and leg pulling from him whenever I stumbled over the long words. There was a knock at the door, which made us all start. Lathra the plain little serving girl went to open it, and showed two men in. One was more richly clad than the other and had a face that looked like it had been chiselled out of a boulder and a closely cropped head of greying blonde curls, the other was older, tall and stooping. It was Lord Angon, accompanied by his manservant, and his face was grim as death. I instantly knew something was wrong, and my grandfather, rising sharply and with difficultly from his chair instantly commanded me to go to my room. I dropped the book, turned and ran, fearing I knew not what. As I flung myself down on my bed I heard a horrible wail go up, and my blood froze - I knew it was my mother. Her keening and wailing, soon accompanied to my added horror by that of my grandmother tore at my heart. I knew what it must signify and I wanted it to go away and not be true and I pounded my head on the covers to try and stop it all. There was a soft knock at the door and my grandfather limped in, his eyes streaming with tears. I had never seen him cry, could not even imagine it, and this was a further shattering blow. ‘Esteldir’ he said in a voice shaking with emotion ‘your father is gone’. And then I cried and cried like I had never cried before, in agony knowing that I would never see him again, never wrestle with him or wander in the woods or go stalking or sit together by the river with him ever again. A month before he and four of his men had mounted a patrol up onto the moors and towards the Trollfangs to spy out what the enemy might be doing. They had not returned, and other patrols had been sent out to look for them had found nothing.  
It had happened before, and none who had disappeared had ever returned unlooked for, so the outlook was bleak. The tiny glimmer of hope that remained and refused to be extinguished only added to the anguish of those left behind, though I was too young to understand and my grief was painful and uncomplicated. 

My father’s disappearance and presumed death added further difficulty to our situation. My father’s income as an army captain had gone a long way towards keeping a roof over our heads, and the stipend that would be paid out on official confirmation of his loss, usually twelve weeks after he was overdue, would not last long. Business had been bad on the wains, lost cargoes, danger money and guards for the carters and a crown that did not pay its debts promptly meant that my grandfather’s once profitable enterprise was close to ruin. I fear my ailing grandfather was also being taken for a ride by his foreman, a man I disliked and feared. All the servants bar the little maid Lathra had been dismissed and anything of value that could be sold easily had been. My mother had not stood on ceremony and had willingly resumed many of her former duties, and despite her dismay Branniel had been well aware that they had no choice, and grateful too. So the once bright and crowded house became quiet, sombre and sorrowful. The blow of the loss of his last son seemed to break Carandir’s spirit altogether, never sound since his injuries inflicted in that fateful raid by the orcs so long ago, he now became weak and bedridden. I feared to see him in such a state, and could no longer raise a jest in him, and when I wandered the streets with my clan I fought viciously with any of the downhill clan who were unfortunate enough to cross my path. The summer passed with little joy and much anguish for me, freed from my studies I instead wandered the streets every day with my companions, getting into scrapes, fighting, and sometimes just watching the world go by. I saw and learned much, of what passed in the town, not all of it good by any means.

My grandfather grew weaker by the day, but his spirits were lifted a little by the news my mother gave him one warm sunny morning. My father had left her with child before he was lost. I felt both happy and dismayed about this, since I realised I would no longer be the special one, and the new arrival would be the one that everyone doted on. I resolved that I would leave home and join the army if this came to pass. Some of our clan were orphans who had been taken in by the army and lived in the keep, usually the destitute children of veterans. They were a ragged pitiful bunch, who earned their keep running errands or performing menial tasks for the soldiers, but they were mostly good fighters for all that, and proper fighters is what they would be once they were old enough. They were known as castle rats, and despite their lowly state most of the rest of us secretly envied them their special status.

My grandfather hoped that he would now live long enough to see the new babe born, but sadly that was not the case, and he slipped away soon afterwards. It frightened me to see him weak, scared and rambling, but I was dutiful and would sit with him for spells, and occasionally read to him, which seemed to bring him comfort when he was more lucid. One day he seemed to rally considerably, and spoke to me clearly at length about what I must do and what sort of man I must become, and how I must look after Branniel and Faelneth as I would be the man of the house and heir of the line. I listened solemnly and swore that I would do my best and told him that I loved him and that he had been the best grandfather a boy could have wanted. He smiled and I gave him a hug and he raised a quivering hand and tweaked me on the nose and I left the room giggling and feeling encouraged for the first time in a long time. He was dead the next morning.

I was forbidden to look on him once he had died, but of course I disobeyed and went into the room to see when my mother‘s back was turned. I had never seen a dead person before, and was quite scared at what I might find, but it was just grandfather, as if asleep, with all the cares lifted from him, as if he had been turned into a statue like one of the old kings. I whispered my farewells to him and quickly crept back to my room.


	12. Chapter 12

My mother and grandmother were naturally grief stricken, and I was too. But instead of the peace I thought we deserved there was a constant stream of visitors to the house, all the great and good of the town and beyond come to pay their respects and say the traditional words. I was expected to dress in my best and receive them politely, but I secretly despised them and wished they would all go away. 

Finally preparations were made for a burial, I was told to pack up some travelling clothes and informed that I would have to get up very early the next morning. I was both intrigued and full of apprehension at this news. As we were finishing a solemn breakfast there was a commotion out in the street and a firm knock at the door. The rough faced lord with the curly hair was there, dressed in his armour and with a sword at his side, and outside in the street there was a company of soldiers and a horse drawn wagon. Grandmother appeared in a travelling cloak, something I had rarely seen her wear. Sobbing, she went out into the street and mother and I followed her. Some soldiers went into the house with Lord Angon and came back out with grandfather, now completely wrapped in a linen shroud like some sort of ghastly sausage. He was laid in the wagon, covered with a cloak, and grandmother was helped up into the front to sit alongside the carter, and mother and I climbed up into the back, sitting a respectful distance from the sad bundle. The soldiers formed up smartly into a column and then we all moved off down the hill, with Lord Angon mounted on a small stocky horse in front. The streets were relatively quiet at that hour, but the people who were abroad all stopped and stood quietly as we passed, lowering their hoods or doffing their hats. “Where are we going?” I asked my mother in a hoarse whisper. “We are taking Grandfather home” she replied softly, stroking my hair and cheek.

And home is where we took him. Ordinarily I would have been thrilled at the prospect of such an exciting journey, and doubly thrilled at the thought of being able to ride through the town in a cart with an honour guard of the Lord of the Keep and his soldiers, but our purpose was too sombre and too close to me in the wagon. I could not bear to look at the way the bundle bounced and shifted as the wagon crossed rough ground. But it was a beautiful late summer morning, and I was travelling further than I had ever been in my whole life. We left the town gate and rumbled onto the wooden causeway that enabled those using the ford on foot to cross dry shod. The river was very wide here, and divided into many channels that formed a wide sea of dark grey boulders and shallow rushing water. Nowhere downstream of this point, other than the Last Bridge, and away in the south at Tharbad was it possible to crossed the Hoarwell without taking to a boat, and there were many places where that would not be safe either.

Once across the causeway we swung westward and followed the old road through country where evidence human habitation rapidly dwindled and the land became silent and empty, with nothing but the sigh of the wind in the trees and the murmur of birdsong on the breeze for company. The river moved fast, wide and silent to our right, like some great grey muscled thing, its surface broken by and ever changing pattern of eddies and swirls, and the banks rose steeply above the road, and dark rocky crags could be glimpsed here and there amongst the steeply climbing treetops. As the day wore on we bridged and forded several watercourses of various sizes that came down from the heights to our right, each one briefly opening up vistas of steep wooded valleys and empty heights beyond which then rapidly closed behind in turn. We stopped and rested around noon where the road, now little more than a grassy track, met a mighty torrent that could not be bridged and swung round to skirt the side of its valley. This was the Rushwater.

After a quiet meal of cold meat and hard bread under some scented pines we resumed our journey. My mother sat quietly on the bench opposite, me hands clasped over her swelling belly. The road grew steeper and rougher and the day was warm. I became increasingly conscious of an unpleasant smell, and though I did not want to believe it I knew what it must be. I know it well now, and have smelt it on a thousand battlefields, and it no longer troubles me, but as a boy of nine it was soon too upsetting for me to remain on the cart and I made an excuse and dismounted, walking ahead with the soldiers. They were a gruff and kindly bunch, and spoke kindly to me of my father and grandfather. Angon rode in front on his sturdy horse and soon noticed me trudging along nearby, and suspected that I might be tiring somewhat. He came to a halt, swung smoothly out of the saddle and called me over. ‘Come lad’ he said. ‘Ride awhile, the walk will do me good. She’s a kind girl this one, you have nothing to fear’. Though I had occasionally been sat up on the carter’s horses for a jest I had never really ridden a horse before, and was about to protest when he siezed me and swung me up. I felt unbalanced and strange at first, but the mare was as quiet as he had promised and I soon relaxed and began to enjoy the ride a little. We passed through a ruined village, many of the buildings burnt and tumbled down and what must have been cultivated fields running wild on either side of the track. I also spied ruins up on the hills above, stone walls and the odd gable end still standing bleak and bereft.

As the sun began to sink towards the west we arrived at another abandoned village and in what had once been the square turned right off the main road and took another into the hills. Before long the woods thinned and the road levelled out and crossed meadows crisscrossed with the remains of fences and there before us were the imposing and blackened ruins of a large house. Branniel, who had been silent for most of the day, began to weep and my mother climbed alongside her to console her. A halt was called and the men and horses allowed to rest and eat. Angon and a small part of men equipped with mattocks and shovels left us and went up the hillside and disappeared into the woods. The rest kept a guard of sorts.

Finally when all was ready they returned, the men formed up and six of them took the shrouded body off the cart with due respect and then carried it uphill towards the burial ground, the rest of us falling in behind in a slow march. As the sun set in the west Lord Angon said the old words to Eru and the Valar and Carandir Son Of Candir was laid to rest in the soil of his ancestral home. Stones were laid on the mound with his and his lost son’s names engraved on them. We all wept some more, and then quietly made our way back down to the cart. Nobody spoke and we did not linger, as night was beginning to fall. We returned to the ruined village and made a camp in one of the few buildings, that still held a roof, a rickety barn. I felt more tired than I had ever felt in my life and was soon wrapped up in a blanket and sound asleep whilst the grown ups spoke quietly amongst themselves and the patient soldiers kept us safe watch outside in the starry night.

I will never forget the kindness Angon showed my grandmother and my family in general by taking my grandfather home. He truly was the best of men, a stern and formidable commander, but also kind and just, and the people of the north marches loved him for it.


	13. Chapter 13

It was raining hard the next morning and the cold wind blowing down the vale carried more than a hint of the coming autumn. The journey back to Northford was rather uncomfortable, but I felt calm now and was better able to take note of my surroundings and the things we passed. I though it was a beautiful but sad land, stripped of its people and history. I hoped that one day it could return to the way it had once been.

Back home life continued much as it had before, but the house seemed very empty without grandfather, and where grandmother had once been a fierce and spirited presence she now seemed old and diminished by her bereavement and spent much of her time alone in her room. My mother had no choice but to play a much greater part in the running of the household affairs, but she was a practical level headed sort and this came naturally enough to her. There was still a small income from the share in the tannery, but now that there were no flocks or herds in the vales to supply the raw materials business there was slow, and our share was certainly not enough to keep food on the table. The wains on the other hand paid well enough, but the army quartermasters in Lastbridge did not pay their debts promptly and often made deductions for spurious reasons, or so Fodric the Foreman Waggoner was fond of telling us. I did not like him at all. He called frequently to discuss business with my mother, something which had not happened before grandfather died, and I did not like the way he looked at her, or spoke to her for that matter. He was a man of middling years, plump and balding and with a loud voice and a blunt manner to match. In all fairness he had kept the business going pretty much single handed once grandfather ailed, and had done the lion’s share of the work organising the cargoes and teams before that too in truth.

He came up to the house one evening, just after we had eaten, and I was sat by the window trying to read a book at my mother‘s insistence, though it was very dull. He rapped sharply on the door and little Lothra opened it. Without waiting to be admitted, he barged past her and gruffly asked me where my mother was. She appeared with a pile of plates in her hand, and placed them on the table. “Master Fodric” she stated coolly “what can I do for you?”. He softened his tone a little “Mistress Faelneth” he said “I hope I find you well”. “As well as I was yesterday when you called” she replied. “Angrod and his lads came back up the south road today, and we’ve not been paid again” he said. “The boys are overdue their wages and their families will go hungry, I need you to sort this out straight away”. Mother looked worried at this, as it went without saying that we didn’t have the means to cover the team’s wages for the month. These workmen were not bonded to our family like the landsmen had been, such traditions did not run in the towns, and if they were not paid they would be within their rights to find work elsewhere, and then we would be in trouble.

In truth our position was far from unique, as the King’s exchequer was in a bad way, and the crown was struggling to pay its debts. The loss of the great fiefs north of the Hoarwell, the long struggle with Angmar and the futile attempts to take and keep Amon Sul had beggared the Kingdom, which having made enemies of its neighbours had no trading partners to turn to. The situation was made all the more serious by the newfound truculence of Ulfraer and his reluctance to pay his full dues to Lastbridge. He claimed the right of rebate over the cost of the campaigns he had fought for the King and the continuing costs of maintaining a defence against the orcs of the Misty Mountains. King Elion, now subject to frequent painful headaches since his wounding in the north threatened and cajoled and sent letters but could take no further action.

My mother thought for a moment and then promised to speak to Lord Angon on the morrow. He was a good friend to the family, and would perhaps make good the Crown’s debt from his own funds? Fodric was not convinced, but could do no more than concede that it would be worth the attempt given the gravity of the situation. Then there was an awkward silence, and he did not turn to leave as we all expected. He shot me a glance. “ Mistress Faelneth” he said, his tone suddenly very different “I pray that I might have a moment’s word with you in private?”. My mother looked taken aback and shook her head. “No sir, whatever you have to say can be said in front of my boy here”. He scowled, but then immediately became ingratiating once again. “Very well then” he said “ I have a proposal for you, which is very much in both our interests and that I very much hope you will find of interest too”. He went on “ I have kept your late father in law’s business going by myself for a very long time now with little thanks or acknowledgement, and by rights I could go to the Lord and demand that he consider my request for a due share of the income and rights to be transferred into my name in recognition of this. However I appreciate the difficulty this would cause you and your family, and have an alternative suggestion which would meet all our needs without cause for any loss, quite the opposite”. He tried to smile sweetly “Given your condition as a widow, in child, with no man to support or protect you or likely to want to take on your brats, marry me and we shall share the business as man and wife”. My mother’s face was a picture, and she was momentarily lost for words. She was a fine figure of a woman, with her dark mass of curly hair, and the added bloom of being with child made her all the more beautiful. I saw him look her up and down with hungry eyes, and a red rage rose in me. Before either could say anything further I launched myself across the room at him with a howl of rage and caught him with a head butt full in the gut. Caught by surprise, and winded, he crashed to the floor. I attempted to follow up my initial attack with a rain of blows which would have been a good tactic in a street brawl with someone my own size but he was no slouch and easily hurled me aside once he had gathered himself. “Filthy brat” he roared and rose to his feet, turning once again towards my mother, and attempted a smile, as if to make jest of my reaction. “Never” she replied in a cold voice “not if you were the last man alive”. The smile vanished from his face “ Lady Faelneth” he sneered, his voice full of sarcasm “you do give yourself airs and graces, but you’re just a common trollop from the hills, just like the rest of us. Your little lordling’s feeding the worms now, or perhaps making a poor meal for orcs or trolls, and you’d do well not to forget it”. I launched myself at him again, but he was ready for me this time and caught me a blow that sent me flying and I crashed over a pile of stools and lay momentarily stunned with a bloodied nose. My poor poor mother, she stood there holding herself straight and true and with her eyes brimming with tears spoke in a voice full of controlled anguish. “Fodric, you are dismissed from our family’s service, pray leave and never return”. “I don’t think so” he sneered “you’ll regret this”. With that he was about to turn and go, when Branniel, who had been roused by the commotion and by a terrified Lathra, burst into the room and screeched “What is the meaning of this? Out! Out!”. With that he spun on his heels and departed into the street, leaving the door agape behind him.

My mother dissolved into a flood of tears and we all went to her aid, grandmother suddenly her old strong reassuring self again. I’d not paid Lathra much attention before, she was a few years older than me and a skinny little thing, but she brought a bowl of warm water and a rag and solicitously tended to my bloody nose and bruises and stroked my hair, and I felt a sudden uprush of feeling towards her. Her face, which had seemed plain and gawky now looked different to me, and I kept wanting to look at it. Grandmother was telling my mother not to worry, that everything would be all right, and that she should go straight to Lord Angon in the morning and tell him what had happened and what the worm Fodric had said. There was no doubt that he would take action against him for his cruel words. Eventually calm was restored and once the chores were done the four of us sat down at the table as was customary before we all retired and shared a cup of warm milk. To my delight Lathra chose to sit down next to me, and her knee accidentally came to rest against mine. We shared a half glance and I sat in a state of rapture. When we were all done and rose from our places my grandmother uncharacteristically gathered me to her and gave hug, calling me her brave little soldier and kissing my brow. My mother, dear mother, then did the same, clasping me for a long moment against her softness, surrounding me with her scents, and whispering a thank you before kissing me too. Ordinarily it would not have been seemly for Lathra and I to hug but the unusual circumstances seemed to allow it and after an awkward pause when our eyes met Lathra stepped forward shyly closed her arms around me. It was disturbing and wonderful, she held me tightly for a moment and I could feel her shoulder blades and I can remember the feel of her spine under my fingers through the cloth of her tunic. Neither of us dared a kiss at that moment given the current company, perhaps that could come later, so we parted and she wished me a sweet good night.


	14. Chapter 14

Sleep came quickly that night, but I did lie for a short while thinking wonderful thoughts about Lathra, and wondering how I could have overlooked such a delightful creature for so long. I was not normally prone to bad dreams, so when I found myself in a very unpleasant one where I was lost in a choking fog and could hear screaming I determined to wake myself fully and rid myself of it, as one sometimes can. But there was no waking from that nightmare, I sat bolt upright in bed and gagged, surrounded by a deeper darkness than should have been around me, and unable to silence the screaming. All at once I noticed an orange flicker through the murk under my door and realised in an instant what it must mean. “Mother” I screamed, and the screaming redoubled in answer, and more voices were added to it. I flew to the door, choking, and pulled it open and was met by a solid wall of heat and flame. The flames quickly began to lick hungrily round the doorframe and into my room, spreading rapidly amongst all my familiar things, my books and toys and hangings. I didn’t care about them, I wanted to go forwards to find my mother, but I could not. The screaming I could hear rose to a new pitch of horror and desperation, and then one by one the voices failed and only the thunderous roar of the flames was left. I fell back to the window, gasping for clean air with streaming eyes and felt the furnace growing at my back. I noticed in a strangely detached way that there were people down in the street and I wondered what so many were doing there at that hour, and then when the heat at my back became unbearable I swung out across the stonework as I had done many times before in secret and dropped onto the stone tiles of the outhouse roof, which was already hot from the spreading fire and burned my feet. Then I was down on the ground and there were people round me, speaking to me all at once and wrapping me up in a cloak. Some soldiers came after, and I was carried in strong arms up to the Keep where I was given something to drink. Whatever it was, it felled me like an ox and sent me off into the sweetest and most desperately needed oblivion.

I came to with a head full of fog and a gnawing feeling that something was terribly wrong, and as my mind cleared the full horror of what had happened came flooding back and I could not help but cry out in anguish. I was in a small room, laid on a pallet bed with itchy blankets and a sour smelling fur. The shutter was up in the window, but it was day outside. My cry brought footsteps to the door and a burley middle aged woman with a pleasant face and straggly blonde hair who wearing an apron entered the room. I felt so utterly desolate and she looked so concerned that I could not help but break down and weep. She sat down on the edge of the pallet and held me for a while while my body heaved with great gasping sobs. “Poor little lamb” she said kindly, “poor little lamb”. After a while my tears subsided, and though I felt no better I was able to regain some self control. The woman stroked my hair and stood up. “There there” she said “I just came to see if you wanted something to eat? I’m Mileth, his Lordship’s housekeeper, he said to let me know if you wanted anything, and that he’d like to speak to you when you feel ready. There’s some nice broth and a bit of hard bread if you’re so inclined?” I felt wretched, and food was the last thing on my mind, but the mention of it suddenly made me realise that I was actually quite hungry, and I accepted her offer. She brought the meal to me and pointed out a pile of clothes. “You were brought here in nought but your nightshift poor lamb” she said “ so help yourself, should be something to suit”.

I finished my soup and bread and got unsteadily to my feet, I think whatever sleeping draught I had been given was slow to wear off. I rooted through the pile of clothes and found some things that more or less fitted, though it was all coarse spun stuff. Mileth reappeared in due course to clear the crocks and she told me to follow her if I was ready. We passed along several corridors, and up a wide flight of steps. It surprised me how high up we were and what a good view there was of the town and surrounding land from the windows. I was shown into a chamber where Lord Angon sat at a desk surrounded by a pile of heavy leather books and parchments. He looked up as I entered, his blue eyes full of concern. I nearly broke down again but was determined to master myself in his presence. He motioned to me to sit down, and asked me if I wanted anything to drink, which I declined. He was a man of advancing years, his short cropped blonde curls long bleached white by age and his face lined like a crag, but still full of vigour and authority.

“Esteldir” he said “I am deeply sorry for your loss. The House of Rushwater Vale has been true friend and comrade to me, and I will do what I can to aid you in your hour of need. Do you have any other relatives who could ward you?”. I professed that I did not know of any, save my mother’s relatives who I had never met and knew nothing of. Angon frowned “We could perhaps find them but I do not think that a little dunedain noble such as yourself would find a warm welcome in some fleabitten village up in the Shaws. I understand that your family were not without means though, and if an income can be held in trust for you perhaps one of the better families in the town who have fallen on hard times would be glad to take you in in return for a regular payment toward your upkeep? Either that or you could enroll as an army scholar in Lastbridge, my recommendation and the fees would be enough to secure you a place. I will make enquiries with Master Fodric and Luath at the tannery to set matters straight there and then we will see what can be arranged”. He then called Mileth back in and instructed her to take me back to his chambers and make sure I was comfortable. I felt utterly wretched, and as soon as I was back in the room and left in peace I broke down and wept again for a long time before exhaustion overtook me. I did not want a new family, or a strange house. All I wanted in the whole world was my house back as it was, with mother and grandmother and Lathra in it, all together and safe.


	15. Chapter 15

I woke to the cold light of dawn and the sound of rain pattering on the shutters, and once again felt the sickening disorientation of finding myself somewhere strange, and the horrible and immediate return of the knowledge that everything that had mattered was gone out of my life. Mileth came in a little later and brought me breakfast, which I ate and enjoyed despite myself, and then I just lay where I was for a while, unable to move and fighting back the tears once again. I had just dozed off when she came back, telling me to rouse myself as Lord Angon wanted to see me, so I got up and got dressed quickly and went with her again.

This time he was as kindly as before in his manner but there was a look of concern on his face. “Sit down” he said. “It seems we were under a misapprehension regarding the income from the transport, and that my original plan will not be possible. It would appear that your grandmother sold your family’s interest to Fodric recently, my lieutenant checked the deed of sale and everything was in order, including the seal. Furthermore my soldiers, who had the grim task of searching the ruins of your house found no gold, coin or jewels anywhere in the ruins”. He paused, glanced at me and continued. “We recovered three bodies however. I know this may be difficult for you but the fire was so fierce that we have no way of telling who was who. They will be buried together this afternoon. I will oversee the ceremony, let me know if you wish to accompany me”. I almost dissolved into tears again, but this time of rage and disbelief, but managed to master myself and spoke with difficulty. “This cannot be” I said. “Fodric came to the house the evening before the fire to demand the overdue wages, and said he had a right to a share of the business as he’d kept it going when grandfather was ill, and then asked for my mother’s hand in marriage and became angry when she refused it. He said horrible things about my father and gave me this bruise when I attacked him for it”. I raised my hand to the bruise on my cheek”. Angon looked concerned. “This is a grave accusation, and I promise you I will summon Fodric and put it to him. But first we must bury the dead with due respect”.

The burial ground was on the south road out of town, and lay between the road and the forest. Many mounds lay across the hillside, some fresh and raw, some ancient and overgrown. Some were marked with carvings and even statues, others with slabs, stones or nothing at all. The icy rain still fell from a slate grey sky onto the heads of the small crowd of friends, neighbours and townsfolk who had followed the wain from the keep, carrying its pitiful burden of three pathetically small shrouded corpses. A single grave had been dug, and the dead were laid to rest together while Lord Angon of Northford said the traditional words commending the dead to Eru and the Valar and the mercy of Mandos. I stood ashen faced at his side, dry eyed and silent, as my whole world disappeared under the heaped earth shovelled over them by the shovels of the attendants. I looked for Fodric among the mourners, but we were told afterwards by one of the waggoners who had come that business had taken him south that morning and that he sent his heartfelt condolences.

I remained in Angon’s quarters under the care of Mileth for the next few days, and although the pain did not lessen I began to grow accustomed to it, and did venture out to explore the keep once or twice. Even though the threat from the north had diminished for the time being it was still a bustling place, full of purposeful activity and crowded with soldiers working and training. If anything the place was even more impressive inside that it appeared outside, with the massive and ancient stonework of the walls and towers revealed in all their intricate detail. Grim looking it was, and very old, as the men of the west had built it before the defeat of Sauron the Black to guard the important river crossing and the northern end of Hoarwell Vale. The town had grown up around it afterwards. On my way round I met a couple of the castle rats, lads I knew from the Uphill Clan, and though they were pleased to see me their errands did not allow them to stop and talk. I felt very lonely, and even Mileth’s kindness could not give me ease.

When Fodric returned he was summoned to the keep, and arrived in Angon’s chambers flanked by two soldiers and looking flustered. I was there with Angon waiting for him and my presence further seemed to discomfit him further. “Master Fodric” Angon said. “You have been called here to try and set a matter of concern to rest regarding the acquisition of the enterprise formerly owned by Carandir of Rushwater and his family. And also to account for your movements on the night of the fire which killed them. I started at this, and I think Fodric did too, his bestial eyes widening in shock. It had not occurred to me that the fire could have had any other cause than simple misadventure, anything else would been too much to bear. “Esteldir here maintains that you called at the house on the evening of the fire, that you threatened to petition for a right in the business and that the conversation went ill when the lady Faelneth refused your offer of marriage. Furthermore that you spoke ill of the dead slain in the King’s service, struck a child and issued threats when you were dismissed from service. What say you to this?”

He was temporarily speechless, his mouth falling open, but quickly regained his composure. “Sir on the first matter let me set your mind at rest.” He pulled several scrolls out of a satchel he had been carrying and unrolled them for Angon to inspect. “Bills of sale, receipts and a contract, all drawn up correctly and in good order”. He looked closely at them and then called me over. Fodric shot me a glance full of malice but immediately resumed his injured air. “Is this your family seal?”. I looked closely and could not deny it, I had seen grandfather apply it to numerous items and had even played with it myself once or twice, sealing scraps of paper and pretending that they were important messages. I could not understand how this could be, unless grandmother had betrayed us, but then I could not even begin to think that and recoiled from the idea. Fodric sighed. “On the second matter sir, I must be delicate. This child has suffered greatly and I fear that his spirit is overcome. He is mistaken, confused by the terrible grief of his loss. I spent the evening in question sharing an excellent meal with some stout fellows at the tavern on the market and did not leave until we heard the commotion caused by the fire. All are men of good standing and will vouch for me. I will give you all their names if you wish, though most are well known to you”. I caught his eye and knew he was lying, or at the very least not telling the full truth, and a white hot rage boiled up inside me. “Thief! Murderer!” I screamed and launched myself at him once again. But strong hands caught me and stopped me in my tracks and I struggled uselessly in their grip. “Peace Esteldir” said Angon. “You yourself have acknowledged the seal is genuine. And there are no grounds to suspect that Fodric’s companions will not vouch that he tells the truth. Sir, I thank you for your time, you are free to go”. With that Fodric turned and went, and I was released, dissolving into floods of tears once again and no longer caring who I cried in front of. “He murdered them” was all I could say, over and over. “Without proof to the contrary I cannot and will not act” Angon replied. “But should I find these proofs then he I will show him no mercy”. He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Peace boy” he said, not unkindly. “This leaves you in a difficult position, but I will not leave a son of Rushwater starving and penniless on my streets. If you will I will make a place for you as one of the Keep’s apprentices. It’s not an easy life, but it is one with purpose and you will not go hungry. Go and find Sergeant Cenric at the gatehouse and tell him I sent you and what is purposed for you”. So began my new life as a Castle Rat.


	16. Chapter 16

The keep was large, imposing and grim, and so too as it turned out was Sergeant Cenric. I found my way through the crowded courtyards and reported to the sentries, who told me where to find him. He was a huge man, gaunt and imposing, with gimlet eyes, long dark hair and a ragged beard, and when I appeared in front of him he was neither polite or friendly. “What’s this?” he growled. “Has that soft fool Angon sent me yet another little wretch to feed and amuse? I’ve enough rats to cope with as it is”. I didn’t think I could feel any lower than I already did, but this terrifying Hillman made my heart sink further still. “Please sir” I blurted out “I’m not afraid to work hard and I’ll be no trouble, but if you want me to go away then I will”. He looked a little surprised at this, and had clearly noted my accent and manner of speech. “A little lordling” he snorted “who did you belong to?”. It was a safe enough guess what had brought me to the keep and sent me to his door. I straightened up a little, and felt a little flicker of pride and defiance “Galdirion son of Carandir of Rushwater. My father was lost in the north last year, and my mother died in a fire a few days ago”. My voice tailed off at this and the pride and defiance disappeared as quickly as they had come, tears welling uncontrollably in my eyes. But I did not let them fall, and managed to master myself, I did not want to show weakness in front of this man. However his bearing changed at once and his expression softened. “Galdirion’s boy? I heard about that fire, terrible business. Your father was a good man and a good friend to me, and there’s a place for you here if you need it. Radulf!” he roared. Radulf came running from another room and slid to a halt in front of us. He was one of the boys I knew from our street clan, about my age and red haired but small and skinny. He looked surprised when he saw me and then gave me a broken grin. “Take…”. Cenric realised he had not asked me my name, so I gave it to him. “Take Esteldir here up to your quarters and find him a spot, then show him to the kitchens, always short handed in there and at least you’ll keep warm”. 

Radulf led me through a maze of passages, corridors and stairways, even along the battlements at one point, until we reached the main dormitory hall, and I was sure I would never be able to learn my way in such a large place. As we went he talked to me incessantly about life as a castle rat, who to stick with and who to avoid, what was a good task and what definitely wasn’t. It was all too much for me to take in, but I did grasp his warning about two of the older boys who shared our quarters. They were almost of an age to begin their soldier training, and it sounded like they enjoyed tormenting their younger companions. It seemed I had been favoured with the posting to the kitchen too.

Once in the main dormitory block we climbed several steep stairways and finally a heavy ladder into an attic under the rafters. It was a dim space full of gnarled timbers and lit by a few hanging lanterns, and the wind could be heard whistling outside on the tiles of the steeply pitched roof. At that time of day the place was mostly empty, save for a couple of boys who were still curled up on their pallets, one of whom coughed every now and again. Radulf pointed out an empty pallet in the furthest corner and disappeared briefly down the ladder, before returning with some blankets that had definitely seen better days, and smelt a deal worse than the fur in Angon’s quarters. I folded them neatly on the bed and then we set off for the kitchens. Fortunately for me they were in the cellars of same building so finding one from the other was simply a case of going up or down as far as I could. The cook was a fat jolly man who constantly shouted at everyone round him, but did it with a twinkle in his eye. I was heartened a little by this, his manner reminded me a little of my grandfather and his constant jesting. He was a hard taskmaster, but fair, and I spent the rest of that day helping a dour man with a very bad limp called Arthon fetch wood from the store and water from the pumps. The kitchens were hot, crowded and busy, but eventually the garrison were fed and all the kitchen staff got to eat what turned out to be a passably good meal of stew and beer. I was exhausted and spoke little, and those around me paid me little heed, but for the first time I felt a little peace and wondered if this new life of mine might be bearable after all. I could throw myself into my work and forget the pain, or at least make it a little less.

We were finally dismissed and everyone left quickly, heading back to their quarters in the Keep or back down into the town. There were a few other boys obviously heading the same way as me so I attached myself to them. They looked at me with mild curiosity but otherwise paid me little interest, but I did not care and thought gratefully of my bed and the sweet oblivion sleep would bring. The attic was very crowded when we finally crested the top of the ladder, but the hubbub of voices diminished when I appeared. I wondered at this and looked around to see if I could spot any familiar faces. I did eventually find Radulf, but the warning glance he shot me gave me no comfort. When I reached my cot I could see that the neatly folded blankets had been thrown into disarray, and worse still they were damp and a familiar and unpleasant stench was rising from them. Two large boys, of mostly Hillman stock to look at them, lounged nearby, grinning. The place fell into an expectant silence.

The larger of the two, a red haired and freckled boy called Bor, spoke first. “Oh look, it’s the little wester lord and he’s wet his bed”. He laughed and quite a few of those around me joined in. Before the laughter had died on his lips I was on him, taking him completely by surprise and having the advantage as a result. I was filled with ice cold rage and fought dirty, before he could react I had smashed his nose and knocked his front teeth out. We rolled to the floor and I untangled myself and leapt back ready for the next assault. It did not come from Bor though, who sat momentarily looking dazed with blood pouring from his nose and lip. The other boy, Olfric, came at me instead, and there was a gasp from the spectators as he had drawn a blade. He cursed me and then charged. For a moment I was back in a sunny meadow with my father coming at me with a twig in his hand and then Olfric was tumbling over my outstretched leg and I was twisting the knife out of his grasp. He hit the ground with a crash, and now I was onto him. He miscalculated that I would not use the blade on him and came at me once again but I slashed deep into the palm of his outstretched hand and he felt back clutching it to his chest. I’d almost forgotten Bor though and was only just in time, spinning round as he swung for me. In a blur I felt the knife bite deep into flesh and he screamed in shock and pain and fell back with a crash, loosing the knife from my grasp in the process. Fortunately for me, and for him, I had caught him through the arm, and though he bled profusely it was not a fatal wound. I stood in the midst of the throng, trembling and filled with battle rage and waiting for the next attack, but it did not come. Instead there was shouting below and the sound of running feet and soldiers appeared at the top of the ladder. All of a sudden I felt sick and weak and very very tired.

A few minutes later, as the wounded were being tended to, Sergeant Cenric appeared in an undershirt and breeches looking furious. “What on earth is going on here?” he roared. All eyes were on me, and I spoke up, quietly recounting what had happened and pointing out my sodden bedding and the bloodied knife that now lay on the floor near a recumbent Bor. “Is this so?”. The question was met with a surly silence from my two opponents. There was a pause and then Cenric continued. “Esteldir, help yourself to what you want of their bedding. Olfric, two dozen lashes for you for carrying arms against Keep rules. Bor, a dozen lashes for you for spoiling army property. Esteldir a dozen lashes for you for using the knife, halved for self defenc. No more of this, understood? Get this place cleared up”. I nodded my assent, but did not see if the others did likewise. I was completely spent and it was all I could do afterwards to find Bor and Olfric’s pallets and help myself to their best blankets, but I could not fail to notice the looks some of the other boys now gave me.


	17. Chapter 17

So I gradually settled into my new life, though it was hard and bleak and I was constantly tormented by feelings of loss and loneliness. After my battle with the two boys my fellows eyed me with a great deal of respect, but I think some were also a little afraid and I did not go out of my way to spend time with them and most of them shunned me. The exception was Radulf, who was a cheerful good natured soul, often taken advantage of, and claiming me as a friend possibly made some of the others less likely to provoke him. I continued to work in the kitchens alongside the taciturn Arthon, and gave neither him nor his master any cause to give me any more beatings. I willingly gave myself over to the welcome oblivion that hard labour and the deep dreamless sleep that always followed it brought me.

As well as the orphans and foundlings who made up our numbers, there were numerous badly wounded veterans at the keep, who Lord Angon had taken pity on and given work within their means and food and shelter to. Arthon was one such, but there were others too, some in a piteous state with limbs lopped off or the wits dashed from their heads in battle. The most afflicted of these lived on the floor below us in the main hall and some were wretched indeed. At first their plight filled me with horror and revulsion and I considered that death would have been a more merciful fate for them. Perhaps in some cases that was true, and it was almost certainly what would have befallen them if they had been cast out by a less merciful Lord and unable to shift for themselves. But in time I came to learn that they were no different to the rest of us, and whilst my own companions shunned me, some of these maimed men were happy to speak to me and tell me their stories and learn what went on in the town, and they became my friends. Several had fought with my father or my uncle, and all spoke well of them, my heart was stirred with a little pride at this and I swore to prove myself worthy of their kinship.

We were allowed some time off every few days, and though I often wandered the streets and alleys of the town as I had before, more often than not with my cheerful companion in tow, the clan disputes no longer held any savour for me and I took no more part in them. That did not prevent some of my former adversaries from attempting to exact their revenge on me, but word of my fight, possibly grown in the telling went out in the town and this soon stopped. My wanderings frequently took me past the blackened gaping ruin which was all that remained of my family home, and it always shocked me how little had survived the fire. I would stand , lost in painful thought, and former neighbours would pass by and nod respectfully in recognition. Then my feet would take me down the cobbled hill towards the yard and wharehouse where Fodric now conducted his business. He saw me standing in the street once, staring, and came chasing after me with a stave in his hand. I slipped away quickly but swore I would have my revenge, however long it took. There were two matters I could not account for, firstly the unnatural speed and ferocity of the fire that had taken my family away. Secondly the absence of any coin or jewellery in the ruins. Fordric’s own hands might have been clean of foul deeds, but I was sure that he must have sent some hired hands to rob us of the strongbox and burn us in our beds. There were plenty of hungry veterans and bad sorts out of the Shaws in the town who would have done the deed for a few gold coins. Without solid proof Lord Angon was unable to act, so I knew I was the one who would have to see justice done.

So another hard winter followed, and then a fine spring and summer. Some of my companions were now old enough to begin their training as soldiers and left our crowded garret, including my two adversaries, Olfric and Bor. They took advantage of their new found status and dished me out quite a beating. I said I had fallen down some stairs in the tower, and that seemed to be the end of the matter. There was never any shortage of new boys to take their place though, and some of them seemed very young indeed to me, poor pitiful creatures. I continued to work in the kitchens, but the fact I could read and write, was well spoken and had sharp wits was soon noted and I was given new duties. Rather than hefting wood I now assisted the Quartermaster and ran errands for him in the keep and town, as well as fetching and carrying from the kitchen to the captain’s and lord’s quarters. Mileth always greeted me warmly whenever I went up there and I never forgot the kindness she had shown me when I first came there. I would also see or speak to Angon himself from time to time, and he was always courteous and asked how things went with me. 

Such was my life for the next five years, and as time went on I found some peace in the routine and became a little less solitary in my habits. However I could never escape the fact that I was a son of nobility amongst plainsmen and hillmen, and my manner and speech always seemed to single me from my peers. Like the two older boys before them some of the newcomers tried to take advantage of this from time to time, but I grew taller and stronger every year, and my quick temper and even quicker fists usually put a quick stop to any of that sort of business. My duties meant I spoke to many and overheard and saw much, both in the keep and the town and especially amongst the waggoners who brought our supplies from the south. This meant I learned much of what passed both near and far. 

The brief respite our land had enjoyed from orc attacks inevitably came to an end. In the spring of 1323 the incursions down the vales and off the northern moors began again in earnest, and any thoughts anyone might have had of reclaiming and resettling the empty lands north of the river were quickly forgotten. A general call to arms was proclaimed and the garrison at Northford was soon back up to full strength, which meant the quartermaster and kitchens at the keep had to work relentlessly to keep everyone fed and watered. The forces of Angmar that had ravaged eastern Cardolan were eventually driven back by hosts marching north from Tharbad and East from Stoneyford and crossed the East Road unhindered back into the wilderness of Western Rhudaur. Once they had licked their wounds and resupplied they began to attack us again, in greater force than before. I saw first hand what war really meant when the wounded and dying were brought back from the latest skirmishes, and every so often a soldier or a captain who we knew would go out and not return. I can still remember some of their faces, men of all kinds, some noble, some low born, who might have jested with me or done me a kindness as I ran my errands, who did not come back with their companies.

Things went ill in Rhudaur too in those days, the King grew more and more ill tempered as he ailed, and he finally lost patience with Ulfraer, chieftain of the Hillmen and his growing insubordination. In a rare show of strength and leadership he raised a host, made up mainly of southerners from the lands between the rivers, and marched north to Bearcliffe and then up the forest road to High Burgh. Angon’s forces played no part, being both otherwise engaged and also being made up of a large number of Hillmen whose loyalties might well be divided. Ulfraer was taken somewhat by surprise, and not yet trusting that he could successfully rise against the King in open rebellion was forced to do him public obeisance and swear fealty. For a while at least taxes and tribute flowed once again into the coffers at Lastbridge from the Shaws. King Elion however left nothing to chance and established a strong garrison at the High Burgh, and placed a Lord to command there. The road south from Northford became a little less perilous for a while as the number of outlaw attacks diminished, but the renewed threat from across the river meant that it did not remain safe for long. My sworn enemy Fodric prospered meanwhile, as the north became more and more dependant on supplies from the south. He became a man of standing in the town and had a large and comfortable house built. I saw and heard all but did not forget.


	18. Chapter 18

And so in the year of 1327 I reached my sixteenth year and the time came at last for me to follow in my father and uncle’s footsteps and begin my service with the army. I had grown tall and strong, the hardships of my life as a rat in the Keep had seasoned me physically and mentally and I felt I was ready for what lay ahead. If I lacked some of my father’s wits and keen eye, or my uncle’s speed and strength, then perhaps it the toughness and endurance that my mother’s stock had conferred on me made up for it.

When the day came I rose, dressed and broke fast with the other rats for the last time. They went off to carry out their allotted tasks as I had done so many times before, and it was strange to find myself crossing the already bustling main yard towards the gatehouse to report for duty. Radulf would also be reporting for duty too, so there would be at least one familiar face there, but the crowd of boys who had come up from the town that morning looked a motley bunch, many of them poorly dressed and sickly looking. They clutched their packs and bundles and most looked nervous and uncomfortable. Sergeant Cenric, for it was he who would be taking charge of our training, was not impressed. We were lined up in the courtyard and he proceeded to rant at us, demanding to know how he was supposed to make soldiers of such poor quality stock, and describing us in many choice terms. I suspect that some of the newcomers were terrified of this outburst, coming from such a ferocious looking giant of a man, but I knew he barked much more loudly than he bit from long experience. Even so I resolved not to seek any favours from him or give him any reason to upbraid me on any matter.

We were then taken across to the Healer’s Hall, stripped, inspected for health and defect, and our heads were shaved. One or two of the recruits were deemed unfit to serve for various reasons and sent away, a disgrace I knew I would not suffer, the Leeches nodded approvingly when I presented myself. We then stood in line, were measured up by the orderlies and our regulation issue clothing, gear and boots were handed to us from several great untidy heaps. The undergarments, breeches and tunic were all of rough stuff, and would once have dismayed me with their poor quality, but I had grown used to such garments now. The boots were of passable quality, and I also collected a leather breasplate, belt, hooded cloak and pack, and finally a bright red surcoat with the prancing black bear stitched crudely onto it. We dressed in silence, full of excitement as to what this meant, and though my stuff felt heavy and clumsy on me I did not care. We were ordered back out into the courtyard clutching our bundles and lined up, standing to attention with them at our feet. Although my new clothing was a little stiff and uncomfortable I felt like a man, but looking down the line most of my new comrades had the air of boys who had dressed up as soldiers rather than the real thing.

Cenric roared a few more commands and made further comments about our lack of value and then Lord Angon came across the courtyard to address us. I had not seen him for a little while, and he looked tired, whether he was ill or simply worn down by his duties I did not know. He spoke to us about the history of our land, and how its story had begun with the downfall of the west and the founding of Arnor. He spoke of the settlement of the eastern lands and the pacts of friendship that were made with the Hillmen, the division of the Kingdom and of the campaigns against Cardolan and later Angmar. He also described the kingdom to us, spoke of its many rivers and vales, the hard craggy lands of the north and east and the gentler rolling country to the south between the rivers. He spoke well, of duty and honour, and we all listened intently to what he had to say, though I suspect some of it meant little to some of the listeners. He finished by warning us of difficult times ahead, and great danger, and the need to stand together as brothers. I felt inspired by what he had said to us and thought that he was indeed a leader that a man could fight and die for. I also wondered with a sudden pang how many of us that stood there would be dead within a year or two but quickly pushed the thought to the back of my mind. The speech concluded and he wished us all well, and told us he hoped to hear our vows when we had completed our training. We were then allowed to stand at ease, but before he departed he came over to me and clasped my arm, somewhat to my dismay and embarrassment. “Esteldir, you are the very image of your father in that gear, I am sure you will do him proud. He was a fine man, one of the best”. I thought I detected a little catch in his voice and mine caught in my throat as I replied “I will do my best, my Lord”. He smiled patted my arm and turned away, walking over to talk to Cenric. I got a few curious looks from some of the others and did my best to ignore them. As we walked over to the main hall to drop out gear off in our new dormitory Cenric came alongside me and gave me a hard look. “Don’t expect no favour from me boy”. I tried to hold his stare and assured him I had no intention of doing so.  
Our new sleeping quarters were just as crowded and uncomfortable as the old one had been, but I was used to that now and this time nobody had interfered with my chosen pallet. An unusually quiet Radulf took the cot next to me, and two lads who looked like they had come straight off the Shaws installed themselves in the other two spots in our corner. Their names were Efred, who was indeed a Hillman, and Aldarion, who turned out not to be and was the son of a Landholder from one of the villages downriver.

After a modest lunch, which to my mild amusement was served by some of my former fellow rats, we were taken to the armoury. This was a bustling place, with several smiths and their mates at work on the ground floor and many folk coming and going on various errands. We were taken upstairs through a barred door to a dingy hall where more weapons than I could ever have imagined were stacked and piled up and hung from the walls. I had never seen this part of the keep. We formed up into a line and again worked our way along, picking up a steel helm, round wooden shield, dagger, and sword. They seemed terribly heavy, especially the sword, but I was certainly not going to let on that I thought so. It was a plain blade of no great quality, nothing like the fine old sword my father had once carried, but it was mine and I grasped it eagerly. When we were all done we returned to the courtyard and began to learn our drills in full gear, and it was hot, tiring and very uncomfortable. All the while soldiers and Keep servants came to and fro past us and gave us barely a glance. Finally the sun began to sink in the sky, but if we thought our toil was about to end we were mistaken. After a brief rest when a skin of water was passed round we were roared back into line, made to stand untidily to attention. We then marched in quick time out of the keep and down the hill into the town, where people were beginning to pack up and close for the day and go home. They paid us little attention, and we soon left the town by the main gate and set off along the south road, which was still busy with carts and wains at this time. I was coping better than many of my fellows but it was still a struggle. My new boots chafed, my shield arm ached, the scabbard belt was digging into my hip and the helm was hot and uncomfortable and I had an overpowering urge to tear it off and throw it in the ditch. We had soon marched further than I had ever been before, past the burial ground on the hillside above the road where I gave a silent greeting to those who rested there. We were out into an open country with a few scattered farmsteads and hamlets nestling in the wooded hills to our left, and the mighty Hoarwell coursing silent and grey to our right. Eventually, when some of the lads looked like they were about to drop Cenric called a halt, and we gratefully sank into the grass alongside the road. The sun was beginning to set behind the steep rolling hills across the river, and I knew that somewhere over there were what were now in name only my lands. I did not have time to ponder long on this though as Cenric soon had us up and away again, cursing us in colourful terms as we set off back towards Northford. It was almost dark when we returned to the keep, sore and exhausted and the first stars were beginning to show in the sky,mirroring the twinkle of torches and lanterns being lit in the town. After a cursory meal we retired for the night, fearing what further hardships the next day would bring. We were not disappointed


	19. Chapter 19

I remember those first few weeks of our training as one long torment, the forced marches, the runs and the constant drills accompanied all the while by the yells and curses of our fearsome sergeant. But I survived it all and soon I realised that I no longer noticed the gear as much or felt as weary. It was the same for all of us, and after a month it seemed that we might make soldiers after all. Cenric seemed to agree, because it was then that we began our combat training in earnest, sword, spear, bow and barehanded. Having a little previous experience of all of these from those distant days with my father stood me in good stead, especially at first. I gave no quarter in our practice rounds and the sergeant or one of my colleagues had to pull me away from my opponent more than once. I felt a hot rage rise inside me when I was fighting and gave no quarter. In the end Cenric lost patience with me. One fine summer morning we were in the courtyard practising our swordplay with wooden practice swords and I soon made short work of some poor lad from the Shaws, dropping him to his knees and disarming him under a hail of blows, knocking off his helm, smashing my shield into his face and bloodying his nose. Cenric, who had been shouting instructions to an another pair of fighers nearby saw what was happening and roared his disapproval. “Enough!” he roared “I’ve warned you to lay off too many times Lordling - time you learned your lesson”. And with that he picked up the boy’s sword and shield and came for me at speed, meaning it. I was immediately on the defensive, but I had learned my lessons well so far and kept him at bay to start with, somewhat to his surprise. And then, with a fierce rage rising in me, I tried my old tactic of going in hard, unexpected and dirty. It almost worked, and he nearly went down, but I think he had been half expecting it from me and I tumbled away to the side, hitting the ground with a thud that knocked the wind out of me, temporarily unable to untangle myself from my shield. He came steaming in ready to brain me with his weapon but I managed to swing my wooden blade with enough force to break it across his knee and he crumpled and roared with pain even as the killer blow crashed down on my helm. I remember briefly hearing the sound of splintering wood and then knew no more until I came groggily round a few minutes later, with a circle of faces looking down at me out of a clear blue sky. Cenric was amongst them, clutching his knee. “Up you get Lordling” he said with a wry smile. “You’re not as good as your father was, but you’re not bad. Just save the rough stuff for the orcs in future, and get that temper of yours under control, you’ll end up dead before your time otherwise”. After that I did my best to remember his advice, and to control myself, and my colleagues probably liked me all the more for it. As time went on several of them became my equal or better with sword and shield, and with the hand to hand fighting so I did not have it all my own way any more, and neither did I excel with the bow.

We were a happy companionable bunch all in all, and I grew especially close in those days to my immediate neighbours in our little corner of the dormitory. I feared a little for what would become of Radulf, as he was not blessed with great strength or ability in any of the skills we had been taught. I had no such concerns about the other two though, Efred and Aldarion were both strong and quick and decent swordsmen. I had much in common with Aldarion, and grew to like him very much. He was a plain honest sort but a true Dunedain, and I drew comfort from his customs and manner of speech, which were so familiar to me from my childhood. He would face the west in silent contemplation for a moment before he began his evening meal, something we had always done at home with grandfather. Some of the others, lads from the hills, used to tease him for it, but I soon decided to join him in the ritual, and after that a few others began to take part too. We would also attempt to speak to each other in broken Sindarin, and both of us listened intently to the greybeard who came to give us history and geography lessons once a week. I already knew much of what he told us, but the rest of the lads were either fascinated or took the opportunity to doze or make mischief amongst themselves.

After eight weeks our training was as complete as it ever would be and the time had come for us to swear our oaths of service. The garrison was in tumult at that point in time as orcs were raiding down the vales in greater numbers than ever before and our forces were being beaten back. Even the previously secure settlements within sight of the town on the north bank of the river were no longer safe, we woke several nights running to see fires burning in the hills, and in the morning the survivors and those fleeing in fear of their lives made a forlorn sight crossing over the plank bridge. Once again Angon sent word south pleading for reinforcements, and did his best with what he had. The night before the ceremony was spent getting our gear as clean and shiny as we could manage, but it dawned wet and windy and much of our work was soon undone. We stood out in the courtyard in our neat ranks, about one hundred men standing in our various companies with the sergeants who had trained us. The oath taking itself was long and tedious as each company in turn broke ranks and went forward to a dais where Lord Angon stood under a canopy, but sopping wet nonetheless, and said the words with each man, clasped his hand and wished him well. Again I wondered sombrely how many would still be alive by the time the next set of soldiers took their vows. When my turn finally came I was shocked at how old Angon looked close up, he reminded me very much of my grandfather now, his youthful vigour all gone. He recognized me of course, and I held his gaze whilst I repeated my promise to serve my king and country to the death if necessary, to be faithful, true and just and asking for the Valar to witness my oath. When it was done he clasped my arm and wished me well. I also wished him well in return, from the bottom of my heart, but then it was time for Aldarion to take his turn and I stepped away and back into the ranks.

That evening we were permitted to descend into the town and visited the taverns round the marketplace to celebrate our new status. I did not get as drunk as some, but we were all a little subdued the following morning. I had more reason than most though as in one of the taverns I had spied Fodric and his fine friends tucked away in one of the alcoves reserved for more distinguished patrons. He looked older and fatter than the last time I had seen him and was dressed in an exquisitely embroidered jacket, every inch the gentlemen. He had no cause to notice me in the throng but I had cursed him under my breath and the sight of him had soured my mood and cut my thirst for the sour watery beer.

We gathered in the courtyard under the grim battlements waiting to be assigned to our units. Those who had shown a particular aptitude, with the bow or woodcraft for example, were dealt with first, and assigned to companies of archers or scouts, but I had no such expectations. Fortunately the weather had improved a little and we did not have to nurse our sore heads in the pouring rain. While we waited there a horn sounded in the distance, and was answered. There was a murmur of voices and we guessed that the reinforcements from the south had finally arrived. The main body of soldiers and their supply train made straight for the camp on the East Meadows, but the captain who had led them came up through the town mounted on horseback with his escort, and they soon clattered into the keep. He was an imposing figure, in fine tooled armour and a great red cape on a black horse. He was a solid impressive looking man, of middling years with thick black hair framing a face with a hooked nose and a mouth that turned down naturally at the edges, giving him a serious air. The look on his face said he was not impressed with what he saw around him. “Who commands here?” he asked imperiously. Captain Arahael who had been overseeing the assigning stepped forward and named himself, offering his service in the name of Lord Angon of Northford, Commander Of The North Marches. “Commander no more” replied the other sternly, raising his hand in which was clenched a sealed scroll of a sort we all recognised. “I, Lord Nordir Of Greenwood am sent by command of the King to relieve Angon of his duties and sent him under guard to Lastbridge to answer for his failings. The King speaks and ye shall listen: for far too long have we sent men and supplies north and seen them wasted by weakness and incompetence. That time is at an end, and you shall change your ways or face the consequences of our displeasure”. A stunned silence fell, and Nordir dismounted. Anger welled up in me, when I heard this and thought of how we had fought and lost in the North, too often with too few men and insufficient supplies. Most of all I was hurt at the injustice to Angon, who was wise and just and well loved by his people and had given his all in maintaining their defence. He had been a true and loyal friend to my family, and had saved me when I had nothing. I almost blurted something out, but fortunately at that moment Cenric caught my eye and gave a quick shake of the head. He had been around long enough to know what manner of man this new Lord was, and I was very grateful to him for it afterwards.


	20. Chapter 20

Nordir handed over the reins of his mount to one of his men and ordered one of the sergeants who had been standing nearby to direct him to Lord Angon’s chambers, and he strode away through our ranks as we stood there in shocked silence. Before anyone could speak, one of Nordir’s captains, a tall man named Berenion, addressed Arahael, and demanded to know what was taking place in the courtyard. After some discussion he deemed it would be of value for some of us new northern soldiers to be sent to the companies that had come north, so the rosters were quickly reorganised. As a result Radulf and I found ourselves with orders to report to a Captain Daeron in the camp out on the east fields. We groaned inwardly at this as this almost certainly meant that we would be spending the approaching winter under canvas rather than inside the thick walls of the Keep. The East Fields were a large flat area of meadow by the river on the east side of the town. They had been kept clear of cultivation and had previously been used for grazing herds brought down from the hills to market as well as a site for various gatherings and festivals. However when the war began and the Keep and town were too small all the soldiers a camp had been set up there. The older part did now include many permanent buildings, mostly of timber along with some paved roads and paths but it was still a rough and rather squalid place.

We went back up to our dormitory for the last time to collect our things and met Efred there. He had been lucky enough to be posted to a northern company who were billeted in the Keep and he told us that he hoped we’d enjoy the rats and mud and latrines. We cursed him heartily in return and then embraced warmly in parting, wishing each other the best of fortune. After that we struggled through the throng in the main hall and across the courtyard, burdened with our gear and weapons. Word of what had happened had spread and the place was like an anthill that had been poked with a stick. As we went under the arch of the main gatehouse I glanced back and upward for a moment to the windows of Lord Angon’s chambers and wondered just how he must be feeling. And then I turned back and cursed Radulf for getting in my way and cuffed him playfully on the helm and we set off downhill through the winding streets.

It seemed word was spreading in the town too as those streets were much busier than usual, but we eventually made it through the market place and east gate and out onto the old north road heading towards the camp and looking out for signs of our new companions. The road had been built in the early days of the north kingdom, winding up the valley of the Hoarwell towards another guard tower, similar to the one at the heart of our own keep. However that tower had long fallen into disuse and ruin and the road had only been paved for a short distance. It was busy here too with wagons and soldiers going to and fro but as we passed through the older part of the camp the traffic began to thin out and we eventually found what we were looking for. A row of wains were being unloaded and we hailed the men working there and got instructions from the men there as to where Captain Daeron could be found. I noticed they spoke with an accent I hadn’t heard before and when I questioned them about it it turned out they were mostly from the area around Watersmeet in the very southernmost part of the country. It was a pretty town that lay at the confluence of the Hoarwell and Loudwater rivers seventy or more leagues to the south at the very tip of the Kingdom, and I remember thinking how different a place Northford must have seemed to them.

We made our way through the noisy chaos of the new camp and were reassured to find that these soldiers appeared to be exactly the same as we were despite what Nordir had had to say on the matter. Eventually we found Daeron’s quarters and introduced ourselves to the bored looking sentry at the entrance. We were quicky ushered in and found ourselves in front of a small group of soldiers seated round a table covered in maps and the remains of a meal. A handsome, fresh faced young man who didn’t look that much older than us stood up and greeted us in a friendly fashion, and I thought I liked the look of him straight away. “Berenion has sent us some northern boys”, he said addressing his colleagues, “anyone got room for them? What are your names?” He looked at me quizzically when I replied, hearing something in my accent or manner. “It will be useful to us to have some local knowledge in the ranks. Túon, add them to your squad, I’m sure you’ll be able to squeeze them in somewhere. Look after them!” Túon, a balding heavy set man nodded and rose to his feet asking us to follow him. He seeemed taciturn, apparently of great strength but I thought I detected a twinkle in his eye when he spoke to us. I thought I liked him too, though he would not be a sort that you would wish to find yourself at odds with.

We followed him a short distance to where a large group of soldiers were sat around a fire eating their evening meal of dry bread and sausage. “At ease boys” Túon called out with relaxed authority “got a couple of northern boys joining us, squeeze ‘em in somewhere and find them something to eat”. We found an unexpectedly warm welcome there that evening, the soldiers made room for us by the fire and were full of questions, wanting to know about us, Northford, and the situation in the north in general. For our part we learned that Nordir was a brutal disciplinarian and one of Barachon’s faction at court, that the south was much warmer and flatter and that a soldier’s lot was the same wherever you came from. Few of our new comrades had actually seen any real fighting save a few of the older men who had served in the campaigns against Cardolan. Most of their recent service had been as sentries in Lastbridge, before which they had both patrolled and spent time repairing the Great East Road in the area between Greenwood and Elfford. They spoke of the elves and dwarves too that they had seen, which greatly interested us, but apparently these unusual travellers were few and far between and did not usually show any great desire to speak to men, and certainly not soldiers of Rhudaur. 

The night drew in and the fire burned low. The men drew lots for sentry duty but we were excused this first time and shown to a crowded tent where we settled down as best we could and waited for sleep to take us. I confess that I did not have a good night, a combination of the canvas over our heads flapping in the breeze, the noise of my sleeping comrades close by and the cold hard ground meant my sleep was fitful at best. It would not take me long to get used to such privations however, a seasoned soldier soon learns how to get a good night’s sleep anywhere.


	21. Chapter 21

So began my life as a fully fledged soldier of Rhudaur. For the first few days we were employed in construction and improvement work to the camp, which for our squad meant digging a lot of trenches. What I did notice straight away was how much better drilled these soldiers were compared to what I had been used to in training. When we formed up and were put through our morning drills it was a real effort to make sure we didn’t make a mistake and draw attention to ourselves. I managed to keep up but poor Radulf was not so lucky, and got bawled at loudly by Sergeant Túon several times for his troubles, who in the manner another sergeant cursed the poor quality of the northerners who had been inflicted on him.

Rumours were rife that our new commander was planning to send his enlarged forces on a foray across the river to test the enemy’s strength and show them his intent before winter set in. However when our orders came through we found out that we would not be involved, much to our dismay. Túon’s squad had been assigned the far more mundane job of guarding the woodcutters who ranged up the Hoarwell valley feeding the town’s endless appetite for firewood. When the day arrived Túon himself did not seem best pleased either but ordered us to form up and march smartly up the road to where the woodcutters and their carts would be waiting for us.   
Behind us most of the rest of the camp was preparing to march off in the other direction. It was cold and windy and looked like it was going to rain but in truth I was actually quite happy to be doing some real soldiering at long last. We made our way up the old road and passed several farms. The first few were inhabited but as we got further from the town they had been abandoned and a few burnt out too, however some of the nearer fields were still being worked by folk travelling out daily from Northford. Further on the road soon dwindled to nothing more than a track, the forest closed in around us and the river, trammelled once again beneath steep rocky banks ran fast and fierce down below. After crossing an ancient and mossy stone bridge over a powerful tributary stream our column halted, and we were ordered to pair up and fan out along the road and up into the wood. Radulf and I left the road and headed uphill into the forest, with our fellows doing likewise to either side of us. The woodcutters followed and set to work, the tap tap tap of their axes adding to the rhythm of the rain that now fell dripping through the branches and on to our heads. I sat on a fallen trunk, staring uphill into the gloom, shield on one arm and spear clutched in the other. Túon would walk by periodically to make sure we were alert and about our work or offer words of encouragement. My initial enthusiasm was soon replaced by boredom, but as woodcutting parties had been attacked in the area recently we had to remain alert. As the afternoon wore on the sound of the axes gradually stopped and after the carts had been loaded we got the order we had been longing for to stand down and return to the road. When we finally reached the half empty camp and sat down for our evening meal we heard that Lord Angon had left the town for Lastbridge with an escort that morning, riding his old black mare, the same one he once sat me on. Apparently word had spread and the townspeople had lined his route and applauded him as he went past. I was glad when I heard this and hoped that it had lifted his spirits.

The next few days all followed pretty much the same pattern, we would march up the valley with the woodcutters and their carts and then spend a dull day staring into the forest, before returning to the camp at night. I think most of us wished that we had gone with the main host for some proper soldiering, especially when we heard from the Keep that they had met and defeated a large force of orcs in one of the vales and were pursuing the remnants westward. The following day began in exactly the same way as all the others, although the rain had finally stopped. The weather had instead turned bright and cold, with an early frost on the ground and a cold mist floating over the river. We went a little further on past the old stone bridge, all the easy wood having been worked out of that locality by now, to an area below a small grey crag and several large tumbled boulders covered in moss. Radulf and I set ourselves up on one of these and prepared to commence our watch. We had a good view up the hill, which was strewn with more boulders, some the size of cottages, and the thought did cross my mind that they would provide a lot of cover for anyone wanting to attack us. It was an uncomfortable thought, and I resolved to pay as much attention as I possibly could. Tuon began making his rounds and the woodcutters began their noisy work.

We had eaten our lunch and the sun was beginning to come round into the west when I thought, or thought I had imagined movement in the gloom amongst some rocks up to our right. Then sunlight glinted briefly on something and before I could cry out or give a warning whistle the air was suddenly filled with the swish and rattle of arrows. I yelled, and heard answering cries, and then there was a damp thud and a crash right at my side and I turned to see Radulf on the ground twitching and thrashing with an arrow buried deep in one eye and blood gouting from the wound. I had been right next to him, and the arrow could so easily have been mine, such are the narrow margins that separate life and death in battle. “Back to the carts!” came a barked order from behind me, and covering myself with my shield as best I could I dropped down off the boulder and carefully retreated. Arrows clattered down around me and one thumped into the thick wooden rim of my round shield, thick and crudely fletched with crow feathers. My two dozen or so comrades were forming up into a defensive line, spears at the ready and I fell in with them beside Túon. He glanced at me “Radulf?” I shook my head mutely and he spat a curse. The woodcutters crouched behind us by their carts, some with axes at the ready. Arrows began to clatter and thump around us, and there was a shriek further down the line and someone crumpled.

Then they were upon us, no more than ten or fifteen of them, shrieking and yelling as they came, visibly faltering when they realised that they had underestimated our numbers, but on they came on nonetheless. We raised a cry and charged them in return, everything had an air of unreality to me. I singled out my chosen foe, and closed in on him, pausing to throw my spear, which missed. I swept out my sword and blocked his first wild swing with a loud clang as we came to blows. He was smaller than me and it became clear very quickly that I was not only stronger but a lot more skilful too. Wild elation rose in me as I realised this and I saw the fear grow in his eyes. Moments later he made a mistake and I saw my chance and drove my sword deep into his chest under the breastbone. No amount of stabbing grain stuffed sacks can prepare you for what that feels like. He dropped his blade, made a gurgling sound, clawed briefly and ineffectually at the sword in his guts and fell back dead with a thump on the forest floor. They say you never forget your first kill on the battlefield, and orc or no I have sometimes wondered who he was, what his story was and what chanced to have brought him there to meet me that day. I had never seen orcs before, and twisted and ugly as they were they were still far more man like than I had expected.

However I had no chance to reflect on any of this at the time, free of my adversary I turned to see Túon clashing with a larger orc, and since I was at his back simply took a good swing and saw my blade bite through his leather breastplate just above his sword belt. As he staggered back under my blow Túon finished him off. Another arrow whistled past and scooping up my spear from where it lay nearby I set off at a run in the direction it had come. The battle rage was on me now, and I knew no fear. The orc archers, three of them and all small and puny creatures, were stood up on the boulders near the spot where Radulf had fallen. I paused for a moment as I closed on them and hurled my spear, and this time it found a mark, catching the leftmost of the three square in the chest as he knocked another arrow, taking him backwards off his feet and off the top of the boulder. One of his companions shrieked and loosed his arrow in my direction and I only just managed to raise my shield in time to block the shot. Even so the heavy iron tip struck it with great force and it pierced it clean through at such a short range. Fortunately it stopped short of any harm and I leapt up onto the boulder and struck down my assailant as he turned to flee. The remaining companion was too quick for me and disappeared into the maze of boulders on the hillside. So ended my first battle, and I fell to my knees suddenly exhausted. Túon and another came running up and he clapped me on the shoulder. “Good work lad” he said, “up you get”.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent clearing up the aftermath of the fight. All the orcs save the one who escaped me had perished, but they had made us pay too. Aside of Radulf we had lost two others, and had three wounded, one seriously. The dead men, southerners, were too far from home to send back to their families so Túon ordered us to dig them a grave by the roadside. I was reminded of my uncle at this, and wondered if I might also end up in an unmarked pit by the side of a road in the wild one day. I confirmed that Radulf had no kin that I knew of and nobody waiting for him back in Northford, so he was buried there too with as much dignity as we could muster. The dead orcs however were stripped of their weapons and armour and piled up before being covered with some of the brash the woodcutters had left and burned. We loaded the wounded men and spoils into the woodcutter’s carts and set off for home leaving a plume of smoke rising through the treetops into the clear evening sky behind us.


	22. Chapter 22

That night, back at the camp in the tent with an empty space next to me where Radulf should have been snoring I found myself grieving bitterly for him. I felt both sadness and guilt, for in life I had taken his cheerful companionship and endless optimism for granted and had held him in little regard. But now he was dead I realised that I had lost the truest friend I could have had. He had never asked anything of me, and put up with my angry moods and solitary habits without complaint year after year. I am not ashamed to say I wept many tears for him that night silently in the dark until an exhausted sleep overtook me.

The following morning dawned bright and frosty, and the smoke of a hundred different early morning fires climbed straight up into the clear blue autumn sky above Northford. I had done my ablutions, put on my gear and was helping another of the lads to start our own cooking fire when the peace of the morning was shattered by the sound of horns blowing down river. Such a signal could only ever mean one thing, and the camp was suddenly alive with activity. Túon burst from his tent, and cast quickly about before his eye settled on me. “Esteldir, run to the Keep and find out what’s happening. The rest of you, gear on and form up at the double!”. I picked up my sword and shield and put on my helm and set off at a fast trot, conserving my energy for the stiff climb up the hill. Even before I got close to the town gate I could see something was amiss, figures were streaming across the plank bridge over the ford. The horns sounded again, and I picked up my pace. 

The worried looking guards on the East Gate waved me through and I set off up the hill towards the Keep. As I passed shutters and doors were banging open and people were coming out into the street to see what was happening. As I reached the gatehouse a horn sounded from within the Keep. I paused a moment, panting and composed myself, and then asked the guard who commanded there. “Arahael” was the reply. “He is in the yard mustering the men, the enemy are just across the river”. I thanked him and set off again but did not have to go far before I found him. Men were forming up in the yard ready to march, far too few I thought. “Esteldir of the Watersmeet Company, Sergeant Túon awaits your orders”. There was a flash of recognition in his eyes when he saw me and he calmly replied “To the Ford with whatever strength you have”. He was young for a Captain, and had a striking face with a sharp nose and dark brow which spoke of breeding and intelligence. The newly arrived southern captain had taken an instant dislike to him and deliberately left him behind in charge of guarding woodcutters and wagons whilst the rest of the garrison went off to war. I nodded, spun on my heels and set off back the way I had come. As I descended I glimpsed columns of enemy soldiers approaching the fortification surrounding the small cluster of buildings on the far bank. Angon in his wisdom had ordered a ditch, bank and stockade wall to be built a few years since to protect the river crossing, but it would only have been manned by a handful of soldiers that morning. I did not give much for their chances of holding it.

More horns blew as I negotiated the now crowded streets on the way down to the East Gate. When I got there I could see that the hundred or so men who had remained in the camp and were fit to fight were approaching quickly along the road with my own squad. I hailed Túon, passed on Arahael’s orders and fell in with my comrades. We skirted the walls alongside the river bank rather than entering the town and soon came to the ford. A crowd of townsfolk was gathering there, and cries of “Angmar is come” greeted us. Arahael and his men had not yet arrived, and nobody commanded there, so Tuon muttering “on my head be it” ordered us onto the bridge. “We’ve got to help those poor lads on the wall”. My heart was pounding in my chest and my mouth was dry, I did not feel ready to face another fight so soon.

The plank bridge was just that, a wooden causeway built across the shallows so that the river could be crossed dry footed. In high summer it was possible to wade across as the river lost its vigour here and braided into a hundred smaller channels in a wide wilderness of boulders and gravel, but each winter it regained that vigour and the deepest channels could be difficult for a man to cross without being swept off his feet. The spring snowmelt turned the wide boulder field into the course of an immense torrent and the parts of the plank bridge were often washed away. On that bright Autumn morning the water in the main channels was deep enough to make life difficult for an armed man, or the enemy could simply have flanked the fortifications and crossed unhindered.

We had not gone far when a distant cheer went up, followed by a gout of flame and smoke as one of the buildings on the far bank was set ablaze. I saw three or four red surcoated soldiers run onto the other end of the bridge, pursued by others who to my surprise were clearly men rather than orcs. Our soldiers did not get far though, all of them were quickly shot down by the enemy’s archers. The men at the far end of the bridge advanced towards us and as soon as we were in range began to fire on us in turn. The all to familiar swish of flying arrows and the thud and plop as they either found wood or water was all around us again. Realising that our rescue effort was now in vain, Túon called a halt and retreat, and I did not need telling twice. The enemy pressed their advantage, and came after us, loosing off as they went. A man in front of me went crashing down onto the planks with an arrow in the back of his neck, stone dead, and another shaft whistled right past my ear, so close I felt the draught. Yet another cried out in anguish behind me and then our retreat turned into a rout and I broke into a run, as did those around me. But then arrows were coming the other way over our heads and the pursuit ended. I sank to my knees in relief when we finally made it back onto the solid ground, of the river bank but that relief was tempered by the realisation that this was only the beginning and that there would be much more fighting to come. A cold dread clutched at my guts, and I wanted more than anything to be far away from where I was but I gradually mastered myself and got back to my feet. “You all right lad?” Túon asked me, putting a fatherly gloved hand on my shoulder. “You did well there, keep it up”. I assured him I was fine and drew myself up a little more, after all I told myself, real soldiers did their duty and did not show fear.

Arahael had arrived and had immediately set about ordering the defence in his usual calm manner. He had fewer than three hundred soldiers at his command, along with some townsmen of fighting age. Anyone who could wield a bow was given one and the archers were arranged along the bank either side of the bridge. A good stock of arrows had been brought down from the keep on handcarts and castle rats were tasked with keeping the bowmen supplied. We were ordered to seize some nearby wains and push them out onto the bridge, where they were toppled to form a barricade. It gave me a little satisfaction to see from their livery that they were Fodric’s, and they went over with a satisfying crash and a sound of splintering wood. We took up our positions behind this substantial barrier and waited. A meal of sorts came our way in fits and starts, bread, cheese, ham and beer brought up by the townsfolk, very welcome since none of us had eaten breakfast. I ate as best I could, feeling a little sick rather than hungry but I knew it might be a long time before I ate again. Or even never at all, but I did not allow myself to dwell on that thought.


	23. Chapter 23

The respite did not last long. Our squad were right in the van and I sat with my back to one of the overturned wains with my companions close around me. Nobody was in the mood to say much but Túon did give us all a few words of encouragement. I asked him if he’d been in battle before, and he said he had, in the battle on the East Road where my uncle had died. He told me that this would be a mere skirmish in comparison, and not to worry, and I took heart from his words. Then horns blew across the river and a roar of many voices went up and we were under attack. “Up and at it lads” cried Túon. “Lets show this filth what we’re made of”. There was a clattering and a commotion as we armed ourselves with spears that had been brought up to the barricade, they would be our first weapon until the enemy had closed enough for us to draw our swords. I chanced a quick glance over the top of the wain and my heart sank, a solid mass of men were moving onto the bridge, and we must have been outnumbered at least ten to one. However Arahael had prepared his defence wisely, as they could only approach six to eight abreast at a time and would be under fire for a considerable distance from the archers on the bank as they approached us. 

Very soon arrows began to fly overhead, and from the cries and screams we could hear many were finding their mark as well. Then they were almost upon us and we began hurling spears over the barricade, one after another, and many of those found a target too. It was wearying work, but a well thrown shaft could take even a well armoured man off his feet, and my arm was soon aching. Then something crashed against the wain and Túon barked out the order to form a shield wall and rather than throw the spear that had been passed to me I braced the base of the shaft against the timbers of the bridge and raised my shield alongside my fellows. Anyone coming over the barrier would fall into a hedge of sharp spear points, and all of a sudden they were there, wild eyed men, mostly bearded and wearing leather armour covered in steel rings with the emblem of a ghostly white tower on their surcoats and small round shields. “Forward” came the cry and we surged towards them in return, catching many of them on our spear points as the men behind forced them forward. The sight and sound of it was terrible. The barricade began to buckle and slide and unable to hold my spear or draw my sword I found myself crushed against the side of one of the wains as we tried to push back. And then it was gone with a mighty splash into the river and many men went with it, but I somehow managed to stay on the bridge and drew my sword just as the press closed in again. 

Crushed together by those behind us, the fighting was close, vicious and intimate, and the thought of it still makes me shudder, I did many deeds then that I could never normally have contemplated. In the end I was forced to drop my sword in the press and drew my dirk instead, and my world became a frenzy of close range stabbing, gouging and stamping as the battle fury took me. Then all of a sudden it stopped and I was in the chest deep icy water, still grappling with the man I had been fighting on the bridge. He came up choking and unable to get his bearings and that made it easy for me to finish him off with a slash to the throat. He didn’t look much older than me, and with a pang I again momentarily wondered who he was and what his story had been. It was one thing to kill an orc, but men, and especially those who looked like we did were another matter altogether. The strong current took me briefly off my feet again, drawing me away from the mayhem on the bridge, and I got a brief view of the whole of the battle unfolding. The full length causeway on the northern side was solid with men, but the all the while our archers were taking a terrible toll. All the same the advantage in numbers looked to be telling and our red surcoated soldiers, so few in number compared to the enemy already were being relentlessly forced back back. The noise was indescribable, and men were continually falling into the water, both alive and dead, and a battle of sorts continued there too. I let the current take me for a short distance until my boots found firm footing again. The red surcoated living were all around me now, making their way back to the bank. I was soon in shallower water and then back on the bank shivering under the watchful eye of several of the archers. Overhead the sun still shone brightly in a clear blue autumn sky. It seemed impossible to think that only a short distance away there was no battle and life continued as it always did.

Those of us who were not wounded and could still fight made our way back to the bridge. I rearmed myself with another sword and shield from the ground and marched back onto the planks towards the fray with several others. Arahael was there in the thick of it, still encouraging his men despite the cause appearing to be lost. In a last desperate throw of the dice he gave the order to fall back. Men staggered back, exhausted and bloodied to the bank and then turned to stand at bay, weapons ready, and I fell in with them. All the while the archers continued their bloody work to either side of us, and temporarily unhindered by our presence did even more damage, though the keep had been emptied and their stock of arrows was beginning to fail. Hindered by the great heaps of dead on the bridge the enemy did not at first follow us, and some tried to retreat out of bowshot but could not due to the numbers behind them. Arahael took off his helm and turned to face us “Men” he cried. “I cannot ask any more of you, you have all done mighty deeds today that should long be remembered in song. But it is all in vain and we are about to be swept away by the coming tide. I for one will not go meekly, the filth of Angmar will pay dearly for this crossing. Who is with me?”. Without hesitation I stepped forward, soaked and shivering and said “I”, and then all around men were pressing forward again and a great cry went up. My heart gave a leap of joy to see the Túon amongst them, bloodied but hale and he grinned when he saw me too. “Rhudaur” yelled the Captain dropping his helm back onto his head and raising his sword and we took up the cry and sprang forward onto the bridge again, running at full speed towards the enemy and what felt like certain death. All feelings of cold and weariness left me and I felt totally alive as I sprinted alongside the captain towards the front rank of the enemy, sword and shield raised, ready to die.

Though we were few in number our charge took the enemy completely by surprise, and with their front line already discomfited we ploughed into them and they began to fall back, many throwing themselves into the water to escape us. We fought them like demons and their fear spread, before long they began to surge back the way they had come. Seeing the disarray spreading their captains had their horns sound the withdrawal, knowing perhaps that we were pitifully few and one more day would make no difference. I finally stumbled and fell to my knees amongst a great heap of dead northmen, most of them felled by our archers, shafts sticking out of the lifeless jumble of limbs and torsos at all angles. The battle rage quickly drained out of me and I was suddenly as weary and heartsick as I had ever been in my life. I swooned a little and would have toppled forward and joined the slain but at that moment a hand clasped my shoulder and steadied me. It was Túon, battered and magnificent and grinning from ear to ear, with Arahael at his side and surrounded by our comrades. “You are a fine warrior, lad” he said. “Let me help you up”. We turned and walked wearily back to the bank, victorious that day at least.

So ended the first day of the first battle of Northford. With more than half his men dead or wounded, and the other half utterly exhausted and with his archers almost out of arrows, Arahael knew there would be no repeat. It was time for desperate measures, and as night fell he sent men and boys back out onto the bridge to scavenge as many arrows as they could and then put it to the torch. They had poured lamp oil on the timbers and it burned brightly and fiercely, lighting up the night, and I was instantly reminded with a jolt of the fire that had claimed my family. But the enemy mocked us by setting a greater fire amongst the remaining buildings on the far bank, and the night was held at bay for a little while by the light of the competing flames.

Arahael gave orders for all to withdraw inside the town walls and the gates were shut and barred. The townsfolk who had not already fled down the South Road provided us with food and blankets and we settled down and took what rest we could on the walls. The night was cold and the sky blazed with stars, and I gave thanks briefly that I had somehow come through this day with barely a scratch when almost all my squad had perished. The morning would have to bring what it would, I had never felt so weary and I soon fell into a deep and untroubled sleep.


	24. Chapter 24

I awoke at dawn, cold and stiff but refreshed as the sun climbed over the jagged and already snowy summits of the Misty Mountains far to the east. Mist swirled over the river below in the rosy light, partially obscuring the far bank, and for a moment it could almost have been a morning just like so many others I had known. I knew it was not however, and the missing section of the plank bridge and the chaos of bodies that lay heaped on the rest of it or beached in the shallows of the river were a stark reminder. I had always loved bright cold mornings like this, with the hint of coming winter in the air, and I remember feeling sad that it might be my last. All around me men were stirring and wearily putting on their gear and the smoke of numerous early morning fires rose straight up into the heavens above the town. We gathered in the small square by the North Gate, close to the spot where I had once waited for my father to march back across the river. It felt like a tale from another life to me now, but I did wonder what he would have thought to see me there that morning. We were fed bowls of warming gruel and given cheese and bread, and then gathered to await our Captain’s orders, pitifully few and battered. He came down from the wall a few minutes later, and I was surprised to see Túon at his side. He spoke to us calmly and clearly, and did not attempt to hide what was likely to happen, that the enemy would come in great force, and that we would not hold them for long. The main body of men were to stand there at the North Gate facing the crossing, along with the archers, but two small detachments would also be sent to the South and East Gates. He chose Túon for the East Gate and sent two dozen men with him, and then to my complete surprise looked towards me and spoke. “Esteldir son of Galdirion, I hereby raise you to the rank of sergeant and command you to take two dozen men and hold the South Gate against the foe for as long as you may. For they will surely come upon us that way too. May the Valar protect you”. I was momentarily lost for words, but too much had happened to me in too short a time for me to remain witless for long and so I saluted him, called some local soldiers I recognised to me and made my way back up into the town. 

We passed through the market place and then back down towards the main gate, through streets that were already thronged with townsfolk despite the early hour. Most were going the same way as us, clutching sacks and baskets and wrapped in their travelling cloaks, and there were also a few carts laden with people or possessions making their way slowly in the same direction. The gate had been opened at dawn, and many of those who remained had decided to make their escape while they still could, for once the enemy made their move the gates would close, and that would be the end of it. The gates were solid, of old workmanship, and set into a strong arch flanked by two small watch towers. We arrived and greeted the gatekeeper, a gruff old man, and I sent two men up one of the towers to keep a watch. After a short pause for thought I instructed the rest of them to forage for anything that could be used to build a barricade. They looked at me glumly and then set off slowly to do my bidding, and I was immediately conscious of my tender years. They were already exhausted and many were carrying minor wounds from the previous day’s battle, but they nonetheless soon returned with crates and barrows, hand carts and eventually a couple more of Fodric’s wains, which were pushed into position and tipped over in readiness either side of the gate. I was too weary and heartsick to gain much pleasure from this now. There was also a laden hay cart, intended perhaps for the mounts at the Keep or one of the grand houses up the hill, and a few more barrels of precious lamp oil. I decided that the hay could go in the centre of our barricade and we could set a strong fire to it using the oil if the gate was breached. I got a torch from one of the taverns nearby, had it lit and planted it in a convenient sconce in the wall. 

In the meantime the river of folk heading off down the south road had turned into a flood. The sun was rising high into the sky and it would surely not be long before the enemy advanced. I foresaw that there would be trouble closing the gate when that time came and warned my squad to be ready and act quickly. I also wondered what dangers the long defenceless line of townsfolk would face on their journey south, caught between the pursuing forces of Angmar, the raiders in the forest and orcs from across the river. However by the time horns sounded across the river and were answered in the town the flood had slowed to a trickle, and in the event there was no problem closing the gate We set about barricading it as best we could and I made sure that my torch was still lit and that the hay was well spread. I told my squad to eat and drink if they could and went up the small tower to relieve my sentries so they could do the same. The scene that greeted me outside the walls was strangely normal, it would be a little while before the enemy would make the now more difficult crossing of the river and send part of their force towards us, if that indeed is what they attempted, but we would not see them until they rounded the angle. The south road, now empty, wound its way off down the valley, the familiar pattern of huts, stalls, pens and paddocks gradually giving way to farmland and forest as the distance from the town walls increased. I wished we had had a few archers too, but none could be spared. I knew that this meant that the enemy would be able to attack the gate almost completely unhindered, and we would be powerless to act until they breached it and came pouring through in greater numbers than we could ever hope to stem. My gloomy train of thought was interrupted by the return of my two sentries, two boys of my own age, and I spent a while talking to them, asking where they were from. It turned out that one of them, a blonde curly haired lad named Dolfur, was from a family who had been in service to my own in Rushwater Vale many years before. I jested drily that this made me his lord and master, but my effort at humour fell flat with him and I felt foolish. The awkward silence that followed was broken by the appearance of the enemy finally rounding the angle in the wall. I shouted a warning down to the men below and then resumed my watch. By the time the tail came into view I guessed that we faced around six hundred men. Not only that but they were accompanied by a mounted captain in silver armour. I remembered the tales my father had told me, and for one fearful moment wondered if the King of Angmar himself had come to face us, but as they drew nearer it became clear that this was a rider of normal stature, one of the turncoat Dunedain. Not only that, but it was obvious that he, like his men, had been forced to bathe in the waters of the Hoarwell before they had made our bank. I wondered what it would be like to fight in cold sodden gear, and that it might perhaps just give us some small advantage, but then I remembered how few of us there were and how many they had.

Their captain stayed out of bowshot but his men soon set about dismantling some outbuildings close by to recover the roof trees to use as battering rams. It was not long before they were ready and after a cautious advance to the gate that quickened once they realised we had no means to hinder them the pounding began. My companions hurled curses down at the Northmen below in the Hill tongue, who replied with mockery and threats in a clearly understandable version of their own. I sighed, told the lads to do as they saw fit, and took what felt like a very long journey back down to the ground to prepare to meet my fate. I fitted my helm and shield and loosened my sword in its scabbard, picked up the torch from its sconce and went to stand in the centre of the small group quietly facing the barricade and gate. I chose not to say anything, but put myself in the front, dry mouthed and now deathly tired. I remember thinking sadly that it might have ended better and on some other day than this.


	25. Chapter 25

The regular pounding of the rams on the gate was soon mingled with the sounds of distant fighting across the town, it appeared that the main assault on the River Gate had started in earnest. For a while it looked like the battering might be to no avail, but as time went on the stout timbers began to splinter, and the studs began to loosen on the mighty hinges. Eventually one of them gave way and crashed inwards onto the timbers of the barricade to a mighty roar of approval from the Northmen outside. Suddenly they were visible, pale faced, grim and heavily armed. We drew our swords in readiness for the assault, but it did not come at once. There was a clatter of hooves, the enemy ranks parted and the Silver Captain rode up to the breach, apparently keen to be first in. I noted with curiosity that some of the men round him appeared to be as fearful of him as we might be. He drew his sword and ordered the attack, and at the same moment I flung my torch into the oil soused hay. It exploded into a satisfying wall of flame, and once again the vigour of it reminded me for a moment of the terrible night my family perished.

The captain’s mount reared and span and he fell to the ground, even as his front line began clambering over the barricade. Some of them were immediately engulfed by the fire and died screaming, the rest fell back, momentarily dismayed. Not for long though, someone amongst them was thinking on his feet and they quickly began clearing a way through the centre of the fire with one of the battering rams. It did not take them long, and through the smoke and flame the Captain came again in his beautifully enamelled armour, sporting the device of a ghostly white tower worked on his breastplate and shield. ‘Mine’ I commanded, suddenly no longer weary, and strode forward towards him in reply. He hesitated for a moment, obviously surprised and then laughed.and spoke to me in the common tongue, in an accent I did not know. “What’s this? A boy? Is that all you have left to defend this dung heap?” He laughed again and came on.

His men, and mine hung back awaiting the outcome, the main battle temporarily suspended. We came together in a furious exchange of blows, and I immediately noticed that his breastplate and helm were scuffed and dented on his shield side and that his shield arm seemed a little stiff, perhaps from his fall. He was also very very good, and well rested, and I hoped that he was not seeing the fear I was feeling rising in my own eyes as I had several times in the eyes of others. I repeatedly turned his blows on my rapidly splintering shield, and was on the defensive almost from the off. But then I managed to land a couple of good blows of my own, and I realised that whilst a man girded in leather was going to need to land a lucky blow in the right place to fell a man clad in steel, that I was able to move much more quickly on my feet. However his next attack split my shield and I staggered back, dropping what remained of it. I heard a quiet groan of dismay rise behind me, but then silenced it with a quick two handed reply on his shield side. I stepped back out of reach of his next swing and went in again, my plain notched blade clanging on the ornate workmanship of his plate and putting an ugly dent in the pale tower. Growing weary I repeated this tactic a couple more times, and felt a little doubt creep into him. 

And then, as he swung at me again, I feinted at his shield side then dropped my weight and swung in low on his supporting leg, using my old trick in one last desperate throw of the dice. It worked, taken off guard he toppled onto the cobbles with a crash and a clatter and his sword flew from his gauntleted hand. Spinning on my feet I brought my sword down hard on his gorget, but it only buckled, and he began choking and writhing, clutching at it with his hands whilst blood began seeping from under his helm. I stood over him and finished him through the eye slit in his helm and then he twitched and lay still. There was a moment of shocked silence when time stood still and then a roar of many voices as the main force of Northmen attacked. My fellows tried to close around me but we were beaten back and though I tried to swing my sword we were almost lifted off our feet by the press. I took a glancing axe blow to my helm, which knocked it clean off and rendered me senseless. I fell, and another fell upon me as I went down, but as the world faded I became vaguely aware of more horns sounding, many of them, muffled and far off, and that they sounded like ours. I wondered how this could be for a moment before the darkness took me.

I was not mistaken. Almost too late, the new Lord Of Northford and his host had returned to find their town about to fall into the hands of the enemy. Taken by surprise in their rear, the Northmen of Angmar holding the north bank of the river were quickly overcome, and the crossing recaptured. Seeing their most direct means of escape cut off and the tables turned on them most of the enemy broke and fled, mainly up river, the rest cast away their weapons and threw themselves on the ground instead, hoping for mercy or a quick death. Arahael and the ragged remnant of his forces made a sortie out of the broken River Gate in response and met Nordir and his captains as they came up out of the river, as wet and bedraggled as the lowest foot soldier with dead of the battle all around them. It was not a joyous meeting. Nordir knew he had taken the bait laid by the enemy, overplaying his hand and almost lost everything. The victories in the vales against the orcs had been too easy and the enemy suspiciously reluctant to stand and fight thereafter. They had pursued them for several days into West Rhudaur before Berenion and Daeron, growing increasingly concerned, had counselled a rapid return home, and Nordir had eventually assented. Arahael for his part had divined as much and his words of greeting to his new Lord were full of bitterness and anger. He feared, rightly as it turned out, that the heroism and sacrifice of his men would pass unmarked, for to do otherwise would have highlighted Nordir‘s folly. The two men, already estranged, became sworn enemies thereafter.

I came too in darkness, my head swimming and all my thoughts in a fog, but surprised to still be alive at all, and all the more surprised to find myself apparently whole, although I could barely breathe. As my mind cleared a little I became aware that I was under a great weight, and after a while I summoned enough strength to free myself from my burden, the corpse of a great Northman with a red beard and eyes still open and full of the terror of his last moments. I was drenched by the blood and filth that had drained from him as he died, and after I rolled his stiffening corpse off me I staggered to my feet and retched, surrounded by a scene of devastation. I staggered across to the tavern wall and slumped against it, exhausted and overwhelmed, and I am not ashamed to admit I broke down and wept then, unable to cope any more with all the horror I had witnessed in such a short space of time. A company of Northford soldiers coming through the gate found me there, and took me up to the Keep through the deserted streets of the town. My head wound was dressed in the House of Healing, I was allowed to wash and given some clean things to wear and allowed to leave, much to my relief. It was horribly crowded in there and full of dead and dying men, with the leeches running hither and thither and doing what they could, which was never enough. The Northford lads took me to the Main Hall, which was also very crowded, and I ate what felt like the first proper meal I had eaten for days, glad to be back in familiar surroundings and amongst people I knew. After that I began to feel quite a lot better and weariness overtook me, so making my excuses, I thanked them sincerely and left. I descended through the eerily quiet town, to the East Gate this time. It looked like this one had held unlike the others, and it the enemy had attempted to sack the camp instead, as many fires were still burning out along the road. I was pleased as it hopefully meant that Túon still and his squad were still alive, but I did not see him amongst the group at the gate who waved me through.

Luckily for me the Northmen had not got as far as our section before they were interrupted and driven off, and I was able to find my tent and bed down. Evening was falling but there were very few people around, and there was nobody else in our previously crowded tent. I realised with a pang that it was probably because most of the others were dead. I wrapped myself in my blankets, too weary for any further thought, and fell gratefully into a deep exhausted sleep.


	26. Chapter 26

When I woke the following morning the camp was in a sombre mood. Few of my squad remained save the brave sergeant, who greeted me warmly, and many had fallen in the battles west of the river too, always in the thickest of the fighting. Word of my combat with the enemy captain at the South Gate had reached their ears, which heartened me a little as it meant at least some of those who had been with me there must have survived. Men clasped my hand and spoke words of praise, including Captain Daeron who came to us and told us that we were all stood down for the day and could rest up. The task of clearing the battlefield would fall to others, including the many prisoners who had spent the night huddled together in a big group out in the open. Wishing very much to be by myself I shed my surcoat and donned my cloak to protect myself from the rain that had begun falling during the night and set off through the ruined camp towards the town. I followed my feet through the gate and wandered uphill through the still strangely silent streets until I found myself in front of my old home, now a wilderness of weeds and brambles amongst the rubble and charred timbers. I stood there for a long time, and wept quietly for the life I had lost and would never have, and those who should have been there to share it with me. My mind wandered back to that last evening before the fire and Fodric, and all the old long suppressed rage and hatred welled up in me again. My hand opened and closed around the hilt of the dirk sheathed in my belt, and I set off quickly, towards the street not far off where I knew he now lived. The town was quiet, none there now knew of my complaint against him, and since I was now a grown man and battle hardened fighter, putting and end to him or any other who stood in my way would present no difficulty.

He lived in the highest part of the town on a quiet winding lane full of large houses with walled courtyards sheltered by the walls of the Keep. Here, facing south the air was cleaner and the views across the hills and down the valley pleasant and extensive, and only the wealthiest and most powerful citizens lived up here. I came to the place relatively quickly, and after a quick glance in either direction to ensure I wasn’t being watched I stowed my cloak in a corner, clambered quickly over the gate and landed lightly on my feet on the other side. All was quiet within, and I began to move quickly across the cobbled courtyard when the silence was suddenly broken by thunderous barking and a great brute of a dog came charging towards me, fangs bared. I whipped out my blade and halted his initial attack by slashing back and forth at him, and he stood at bay, snapping at me and barking ferociously, waiting for me to drop my guard. However the noise of the dog did not bring anyone rushing out. I realised that if I could rid myself of him then I could get into the house and see what I could find unhindered, even if Fodric himself would have to wait till another day.   
The dog looked lean and probably hadn’t been fed since whatever servants had been left in charge of the house had fled the town the previous morning, and I remembered that I had a hunk of dried bread and some hard cheese in my scrip. They bought me enough time to vault quickly back over the gates under the stone arch and back into the street. Checking that I was still unobserved I walked a short distance and climbed cautiously over the wall into the courtyard of the house next door. From there it was an easy scramble up short walls and sloping tiled roofs to the back of Fodric’s house, where I was able to slide my blade up the gap between two shutters and flip the bar. Somewhere below the dog barked intermittently, aware that all was not as it should be, but I ignored him and pressed on.

The room I entered was a small sparsely furnished bedroom, perhaps that of a servant. I quickly made my way out into the gloomy corridor and down some stairs to a passageway that looked better furnished, full of new looking tapestries showing hunting scenes. I tried a door at the end of the corridor by another shuttered window that led into a room facing the front of the house, and realised from the furniture and garish hangings that these must be Fodric’s own chambers. Thinking that he was a man of little imagination the first place I looked in the shuttered gloom was under his bed, and my heart almost stopped in my chest at what I found. There, plain as day was my grandmother’s carved strongbox, the one where she kept all her coin and important papers. It was an ancient thing, reputed to have come over the water from the west with our forebear. I pulled it out from its hiding place and took it to a window where there was a little more light. The lock had been forced and was bent askew and it opened easily. Within the coin and any jewellery that might have been with it was long gone, but all the papers were still there, deeds of ownership, titles to our lands, maps and many other documents yellowed by time. I began to leaf through them, my heart pounding in my chest, imagining all those who might have handled them before me. But my reverie was shortlived, as the dog began barking again in earnest this time. Someone had returned and I head the gates opening and the dog’s bark suddenly turned to a yelp. As soon as the Northmen had been defeated men had been sent down the South Road to bring news of the relief to the fleeing townspeople and bring them home, although some chose to continue their journey regardless. It was clear Fodric’s servants, or perhaps even Fodric himself had chosen to return. I stuffed the papers back into the chest, quickly returned it to its predictable hiding place and made my exit back the way I had come, pushing the shutter to behind me. Fortunately the people who inhabited the house next door remained absent and after a short while huddled under the archway by their gate in the rain I clambered back over, retrieved my cloak and wandered nonchalantly away back down towards the lower part of the town and spent the rest of the day in one of the few taverns open for business, pondering my next move.

We returned to duty the following day and joined the continuing work to clear the battlefield, repair the damaged gates and plank bridge. We were assigned to the first of those tasks, which was the grimmest work made worse by the weather. A squally wind and driving rain poured out of a slate grey sky which lowered the spirits still further. The many captured Northmen worked alongside us, under guard, and it became clear from speaking to them in their heavily accented version of my own mother’s tongue that many saw their capture as something of an escape rather than a defeat. They told terrible tales of cruelty and hardship in the northern kingdom, of being pressed to fight for a Lord they hated and feared in a war they had never looked for. I had been right to suspect that the Silver Captains inspired fear and hatred amongst their own men, for when some of them heard that I had felled one they congratulated me almost as warmly as my own comrades had. I the end I could only feel pity for them, ragged and fearful as they were for the most part, but Lord Nordir for his part showed them no mercy, fed them little and kept them without shelter until many became weak and ill. Any who tried to flee were put to death, and many of the soldiers from the south, to whom the Hillmen were not close kin also felt no compunction in treating them brutally. It was clear that with winter coming the extra mouths could not be fed for long so after a week or so the prisoners were marched south roped together and under close escort, to be used as forced labour in the fields and forests of the south. I do not know how many of those who left Northford fell by the wayside before they reached their destination, but I would hazard it was no small number. I also heard later that they were subjected to vile treatment when they passed through the streets of the Lastbridge, all things which to our shame made us no better than him who opposed us in my view.

As a result of the loss of so many men the Watersmeet Company was reorganised and several regulars were promoted, Túon to Lieutenant being one of that number. Much to my surprise, for he must have spoken to Arahael on the matter, Captain Daeron also upheld my hasty promotion and I was assigned my own squad, which made me one of the youngest to ever receive that honour. And after the ceremony where we were all sworn in came the announcement that all my fellows must have longed for - anticipating a lull in the fighting with the coming of another long winter, the company was to be sent back south and the men would be home with their families for yuletide. They naturally responded with jubilation and cries of joy, but once they had quietened down the Captain asked for a silence to remember those we would be leaving behind. Afterwards, as the men were dispersing he came across to speak to me, perhaps aware of my uncertainty at this news, since I had no home other than the Keep and no family. “Esteldir, you were joined to my Company on a whim of Lord Nordir’s, but in the short time you have served with us you have more than proved your worth. I do not wish to lose you, but if you wish to remain here in Northford I will see that you are transferred to one of the local companies”. I considered this for a moment, along with his young, handsome face full of intelligence and told him that I certainly wished to remain under his command, but must remain in Northford for the winter. “On the first count, that is indeed well” he said. “On the second, have no fear, for you must join my family and I and spend Yuletide with us if you wish”. I was delighted at this, expressed my gratitude warmly and accepted his invitation. He then looked at me a little quizzically again and spoke in Sindarin, saying the formal words used to offer hospitality to a guest. Without missing a heartbeat I managed to give him the correct reply, though I am not sure to this day how I was able to recall it so easily. His quizzical smile dissolved into a broad grin and then laughter. “There’s surely more to these Northerners than we were led to believe, when even common soldiers are so well versed in their letters!”. 

He clapped me on the shoulder and I walked back to my new quarters and my squad full of childish excitement at what lay ahead. I would truly be leaving Northford behind for the first time in my life, and would see with my own eyes the greatness of Lastbridge the wide lands that lay beyond it in the south and the famous white towers of Watersmeet where the two great rivers of our land ended their long journeys and were joined together.


	27. Chapter 27

As expected resounding defeats and the approaching winter brought another respite from attacks from the foe, and the scouts reported little if any activity in the forests and moors north of the river. The weeks passed quietly, the weather began to turn cold and then the first snows came. At the beginning of Narbeleth we finally received our orders to march south, providing escort to a large returning train of wains and carts as we went. I had thought long and hard on the matter of Fodric and my mother’s box and in the end decided to share my full tale with the Captain, and seek his counsel. He heard me out, thought on the matter and then took my part, much to my relief. However he counselled caution as Fordric had grown wealthy in the past few years and now had influence and the ear of those in positions of power in both Northford and Lastbridge. He said he would do what he could to gain me an audience with the Lord, and true to his word an audience was forthcoming.

Lord Nordir sat in session in the Great Hall with his captains and advisers once a week , and I was instructed to wait in an antechamber with a group of townsmen, some with grievances, some seeking aid, but all in obviously in varying states of trepidation, for unlike his predecessor the new Lord was not known for his patience or kindness. I was convinced that had old Angon still sat in the carved chair that the discovery of my mother’s possessions would have been Fodric’s death warrant, but I was not confident that this new Lord would care so much for justice, knowing none of us or our history.

And so it proved. I was called forward from the chamber and strode up the aisle to where the Lord sat brooding in the gloomy hall, surrounded by his advisers. I had made sure I looked the part, my gear was clean and polished and I had bathed and been barbered. “Esteldir, son of Galdirion, Sergeant of the Watersmeet Company. I come bearing complaint against Fodric of Northford”. His face grew grim at this. “I accuse him of theft and murder, either by his own hand or through the prompting of others, having set fire using lamp oil to the home of my grandmother Branniel, resulting in her death, the death of my mother Faelneth and the servant girl Lathra these seven years past. In proof of this I have learned that he has in his house a box that belonged to my mother containing our family’s scrolls, titles and deeds, and…”. I was cut short by a raised hand, and Nordir, all icy haughtiness began to slowly clap his hands in mock applause. “Esteldir son of Galdirion, Fodric warned me that you might come hither with such accusations, as a jealous son who opposed his impending union with your widowed mother. The box in question was given into his hands for safekeeping prior to her unfortunate untimely death, doubtless at the hands of the clumsy servant girl. A household of women living alone cannot guarantee their safety in these difficult times, so it was no doubt passed to him for safekeeping and he has kept it in memory of her. He very graciously wishes it to be known that if you wish to retrieve any of the articles it contains they are yours if you request it. He has also pleaded for clemency on your behalf, anticipating the gross nature of your accusation, and it is only this and your recent record of service in battle which have prevented you from receiving exemplary punishment for this, against such an upstanding personage. But rest assured, any further word from you on this matter, or any further harassment of Fodric will result in swift retribution. And you have still not explained how you came by the information regarding the box. You are dismissed”. A fierce rage rose within me, as it had often done in the past, and it was all I could do not to sweep my sword from its scabbard and strike the man dead there and then, but I stood in silence for a few moments instead and gradually mastered myself, turned on my heels and marched from the hall. 

Once outside, tears of rage at the maddening injustice of it all welled in my eyes and I walked through the streets of the upper town in a daze, hardly conscious of where I was. I knew now that the only justice I would ever gain would be that dealt from my own hand, and I swore I would have it, however long it might take. I inevitably found myself back at the ruins of my old home, and stood there for a long while contemplating the now snow dusted ruins, once again remembering what had been. Captain Daeron found me there, and without saying a word I turned to follow him and we made our way back to the camp.

The following day we left Northford. Snow was falling steadily from a slate grey sky as we formed up in marching order with our supply wains and left the camp, passing round the town walls and joining the caravan of wagons bound for Lastbridge outside the South Gate. Surprisingly little remained to indicate what had passed there a few weeks before save some bright new timbers in the gate, it was almost as if the whole thing had never happened. We were split into our squads and given groups of wagons to escort, mine were in the middle of the train and I allocated four of my men to each. We trudged alongside them, spears on our shoulders and shields on our arms, hooded against the downpour. The oxen steamed, and the drivers yelled and cracked their whips and we were off, at a steady enough pace to begin with. I moved up and down the column to begin with checking all was well and if any of my men questioned my youth or authority then they gave no sign of it when I spoke to them.

I settled into a steady march alongside the lead wagon in my section, heaped high with empty casks, the drivers hunched in their cloaks up on the bench. There was little need for watchfulness this early in the journey, so I spent my time observing mysurroundings. At first they were familiar, for I had come that way with Sergeant Cenric, and to bury my family before that. We passed the burial grounds, and again I thought on those resting there and swore vengeance on their behalf. After that the country on this side of the river was new to me, and the road followed the bank through hilly country dotted with farms, villages and the occasional great house. One of them must have been the home of my friend Aldarion, but I did not know which one. He had survived the campaign across the river and we had shared our tales over a flagon or two of good ale and drunk to the memory of our good friends Efred and Radulf, who had not been so fortunate. Unlike the lands east of Northford these were still relatively peaceful and well protected, as the river ran too deep and fast to cross easily by any means below the ford, and the Keep and town kept the threat from the north at bay. 

We halted mid morning to feed and water the oxen and I took the opportunity to walk down to the river bank. It had stopped snowing and brightened a little but the bitter wind was promising more would be on its way later. I watched the sleek grey swirling waters rushing silently past me at a surprising fast pace, and shuddered at the thought of what might happen to anyone who fell into that flood. I looked across to the far bank and realised I knew the place. A strong torrent came down to join the river there, and a wide vale framed by high hills wound its way off into the distance beyond it. There was no stout stone bridge across this stream unlike the others before it and the faint trace of a road on the far bank disappeared round a bend and up into the valley. I knew I was looking again on Rushwater Vale, my ancestral home, and I remembered the sad journey we had made there many years before. Shouts from the road behind me as the train prepared to move off again brought my reverie to an abrupt end and I shook my head and turned to go.

As the day wore on the sky grew clearer and the land grew steeper and more rugged. Every now and again the road climbed away from the river into the hills to avoid thunderous rapids and deep gorges. I wondered at the mighty work that had gone into building such a road in the early days of the North Kingdom, in what would have been no more than a remote backwater at the time. Despite centuries of use and wear it was still in good repair for the most part, a testament to the skill of those who had built it. Eventually we halted as the light began to fade from the wintry sky and camped strung out along the road, lighting fires and bedding down under the wagons. I stood sentry on the first watch, and saw the stars come out over this quiet and remote part of our land, thinking how beautiful it was and worth fighting for.


	28. Chapter 28

We were two more days getting to Bearcliffe, and the journey passed uneventfully. During the first we passed the ruins of an inn and way station, one of those that had been established every seven leagues along the high roads for the use of travellers and the King’s messengers in the old days. Some had grown into villages or even towns over time, but this one had either fallen into disrepair through neglect or been attacked and abandoned at some time in the past. It would once have been a welcome sight but now it looked sad and dreary and we did not tarry there.  
We met wagon trains coming in the other direction, and several patrols, as the southern part of the road had been the scene of numerous attacks both by orcs who had crossed the river and bands of brigand Hillmen reiving from the cover of the forests. As we went south the land grew steeper still, and tall cliffs and crags towered over us. At one point the road left the river for the best part of half a days march and wound slowly through the hills whilst all the while the very air shook with the thunder of water on our right hand. Here, the river, already much greater than the one I knew at home fell steeply through a number of deep gorges, and the immense power of the tumbling water was truly a wonder to behold.

On the afternoon of the third day, with the river once again running swift and smooth alongside the road we came to a rampart and small fortification at a narrowing where a great crag threw a shoulder down towards the river, and passing slowly under a gateway entered the province of Bearcliffe. The vale beyond widened between tall cliffs and tree clad heights and a couple of leagues off we could see the town, standing below another great crag topped with a distinctive boulder. It did not look much like a bear to me, or anyone else for that matter, and it is not clear whether the name of the town was derived from it or simply from the abundance of black bears that once roamed in those parts and whose likeness now adorned our surcoats.  
It was the first time I had seen another town in our realm, and everything was at once familiar and very different. For a start there were no empty or ruined farms, and even under a dusting of the first snows of winter everything had an air of order and prosperity about it, at odds with what I had become used to. It was the same as we approached the town, and the road was very busy and became busier still when we got to the junction where a bridge spanned the White River and the High Burgh road joined. It was market day on the morrow and all the traders and buyers seemed to be arriving at once. Our wagon train came up behind another which had already halted for the day so we were had no choice but to stop too, and after a meal and strict instructions to return before the town gates closed we were stood down and free to spend our evening as we wished. I dismissed my squad, cleaned myself up as best I could and went to find Daeron, who had invited me to dine at what he had described as the best inn in Bearcliffe. I found him, along with Túon and some others at the head of the train and we greeted each other warmly and then set off at once through the chilly evening down the road towards the town.

I felt happy and excited to be in such company, free for a change from any immediate peril and at leisure to enjoy myself. The town itself was just like the land around it, bustling and prosperous and apparently little touched by war or any evident hardship. Like Northford it was built on a hill, so the streets wound upwards in much the same way, but unlike Northford the Keep sheltered under the great crag, and its looming bulk was ever present above us in the darkening sky. The inn was on a quiet torchlit street in the upper town and it was clear Daeron was already known there. It was quiet, spacious and very clean with a low beamed ceiling and a large fireplace, not at all like the inns I was used to frequenting. We were shown to a table and served excellent fruity ale and delicious roasted meats, the likes of which I had not tasted since my childhood. I feared the bill would be beyond my means as this was clearly an establishment for those of quality and means, but Daeron, sensing my discomfort soon set my mind at rest on that score. 

We passed a pleasant evening, and I felt warm and comfortable and happy to be in such good company. But then the door opened and I heard a familiar voice which took me a moment or two to place complaining about his journey from Lastbridge, and my contentment immediately evaporated. By some cruel trick of fate or chance it was none other than Fodric himself who walked in, flanked by two large Hillmen whose reason for employment was clear enough, and a couple of weasely looking men dressed in good cloaks who were apparently engaged in discussing some transaction or other with him. He did not notice me at first, so I was able to observe him for some time. His success and elevation in the world had hardened his manner, and there was no trace of the former hesitancy he had sometimes displayed, especially when dealing with my mother. Everything about him spoke of wealth and success, he was finely dressed and his demeanour was of one who expected to be obeyed. I cursed the coincidence that had brought him to the same inn as me on the same night in a strange town, but then my mind raced at the thought that I might find the means to exact my revenge on him, for his henchmen held no fears for me, I had slaughtered their kind by the dozen not a few weeks since. I began to formulate a plan, involving sneaking away from my group and deliberately getting myself shut into the town after the gates closed and my heart began to pound at the thought. But then I realised, like a drenching in icy water, that his death in Bearcliffe two days after I had made gross accusations against him to the Lord of Northford, and while I was known to be in the same place could only lead to one conclusion. I realised that vengeance would have to wait yet again. 

As if prompted by my thoughts about him he suddenly made as if to notice me and called my name, sounding pleased to discover me there, of all people in all such places. There was however an implied question as to what a common soldier such as myself might be doing in such an establishment. I replied courteously and Daeron, who presented himself to my surprise as son of the Lord Of Watersmeet, explained that he was taking the opportunity to dine with some of his best men after a long and difficult campaign in the North. Fodric thanked the good Captain gracefully for performing that valiant service and then told his companions that I myself had almost become his son, as he had been betrothed to my beautiful widowed mother before her tragic and untimely death. Sensing my patience with this charade would soon run out if the discussion continued in this vein Daeron made his excuses regarding the late hour and signalled to us all that it was time to leave. As we rose and reclaimed our cloaks I caught Fodric’s eye and for a moment there was no veneer of civility at all in the glance that was returned, only pure hatred. I decided it might be wise to avoid walking alone down quiet streets at night once I got back to Northford, and this with him yet to discover that I had been to Nordir and spoken to him about the contents of a chest in his house.

After the warmth and comfort of the inn the frosty night air was like a slap in the face, but I was glad to get outside. Daeron threw a protective arm around my shoulder. “So that was he then? A loathsome creature, give me half a chance and I’d stick a knife in his guts myself”. Túon and the others agreed and we laughed and I felt comforted and thanked them. “Son of the Lord Of Watersmeet?” I asked Daeron in turn, surprised at the way he had styled himself. He laughed. “I stretched the truth somewhat there” he said, “my great grandfather was such, but men like this Fodric are impressed by fancy titles and are apt to mind their manners in what they believe to be better company”.  
I was grateful to have such a good friend and commander taking my part, not to mention those around me, and I decided to put Fodric out of my mind for now and try and enjoy the adventure of the journey south. But that was easier said than done and I lay sleepless and shivering in my blankets under the wagon with my mind racing for a time before sleep eventually took me.


	29. Chapter 29

It had clouded over in the night and had started to snow again by the time we set off the following morning. We had now joined with the wagon train which had halted our further progress the night before. It was also being escorted by soldiers being sent home from the North, though these had a shorter journey to Lastbridge. We entered the town and made our way slowly through the already crowded streets full of people, wains and beasts of burden heading to the markets. I noticed that many of them spoke my mother’s Hill Tongue rather than the common speech and were dressed in the style of the Shaws. Bearcliffe owed its prosperity to its being the place where the Hillmen of High Burgh traded their goods with the rest of the Kingdom, for the road between the two that came down the valley of the White River was the only easy route in and out of the forested highlands to the east.

Eventually after a lot of stopping and starting we cleared the town’s south gate and trudged slowly through a landscape that was only partly visible at times in the downpour, the wagons following black ruts on the white road as we trudged, hoods up, in the ever deepening snow. I thought it was going to be a very long and wearisome day but eventually the snow ceased and the sky lightened a little. Just like the valley to the north of Bearcliffe this was a land of small farms and neat villages straggling along the road and riverside in a valley flanked by steep cliffs and forested heights. At a narrowing we came to another earth bank and gateway, beyond which the land emptied and became wilder. The river no longer fought its way through any rocky defiles here, its course was swift and smooth and flanked by wide snow covered meadows. By the time we stopped for the night the heights had receded and the land either side of the river had softened to low rounded hills. We did pass through a couple of abandoned villages, with some ruins that looked like they had recently been put to the torch, but by orc from across the river or brigand Hillmen it was not possible to say. The following day passed in much the same fashion, with a halt for lunch near another old way station, this one populated, in good order and surrounded by villages and farms. We passed other wagon trains heading north and their escorts reported no trouble for us on the road ahead.

So on the sixth day out of Northford I finally set eyes on Lastbridge, the ancient capital of Rhudaur. The land had steepened again, and so had the number of farms and villages scattered along the road. In the distance I could see a great pall of smoke rising high into the wintry air, and wondered at the number of fires that could make such a plume as it grew nearer and larger. Then, as we crested a rise above the river the city came into view. I caught my breath, for it was as impressive as I had hoped, Northford was no more than a country village in comparison. Steep walls and guard towers enclosed a sea of grey stone tiled roofs and spires dusted with the first snows of winter, and above rose a great crag on which stood a mighty fortress. The river bisected the city, and there in the distance on the wide fast moving waters was the famous three spanned bridge of immeasurable age and peerless workmanship that had given the city its name. And yet, great as it was in my eyes, I would learn in time that Lastbridge was as yet nothing compared to the glory of Fornost, chief city of Arthedain, or indeed Tharbad of Cardolan in those days.

It was late afternoon when we made the city gates alongside the river and entered the walls and parted with our charges with little ceremony or affection. We formed up as best we could into a marching company with our packs and arms and made our way along the wide road, parting the crowds as we went. I looked in wonder at the sights around me, everything seemed to be on a greater scale than I was familiar with from home, the road was wide and many of the buildings large and magnificent and covered in carved decorations. As daylight began to fade torches and lanterns were lit, which added to the impression for me. We finally came to a square where the road south met that heading east, where a market was being shut up for the day. To the right there was an ancient watchtower and a gate guarding the bridge, but we turned left and marched east for a short while, eventually turning left off another wide square under the looming battlements of the fortress, its snow topped towers flying red pennants decorated with the black bear.

The road began to steepen and the crowds diminished, other than some other small groups of soldiers perhaps ending their day of guard duty. The main gate was approached up a natural ravine which climbed towards the centre of the fortress and was flanked on both sides by battlements. This meant that anyone storming the place by that route would have faced arrows and missiles raining down on them from above on both sides every step of the way, long before they ever made the gate. We marched up this road under a darkening sky and entered a vast dimily lit cobbled courtyard through a fine arched gateway. Even in the twilight however it was clear to see that many parts of the place were in something of a state of disrepair, and after crossing the square and passing through many dark and dreary passageways and courtyards we finally found ourselves in our billet for the night. It was a great echoing high vaulted hall, which might have had a better purpose than a dormitory at some point in the past, but it was now lined with pallets and a desultory fire burned in the fireplace at one end. As we were weary of sleeping under the stars in the snow this place was all we could wish for, though the cold and foul tasting stew and weak beer we were served as an evening meal left a lot to be desired.

The following day we were granted a rest and given leave to spend our time as we wished. Daeron had again offered to spend the day with me and show me the sights, which I was very grateful for and looked forward to, feeling favoured by his friendship and attention. After breakfast we set off through the maze of halls, passageways and courtyards, which I could never have navigated by myself without becoming hopelessly lost. I was in awe of the place, even if daylight confirmed how dilapidated most of it was. It seemed to have been built on too large a scale, and I wondered how many men it would take to defend it and whether it had ever been fully manned. We soon found ourselves in the great courtyard again, where pageants and parades were held, and walked over the slippery cobbles towards the high grey walls of what I took at first to be the inner keep, but turned out to be the King’s citadel and halls. It was in somewhat better repair than the rest of the fortress and the massive gates, thrown open, were framed by grim grey towers and snow dusted walls. Guards in livery stood sentry there, silent and unmoving, and I hoped for their sake that they were well dressed against the bitter cold. I peered through the gate from a distance, but could not discern much, and we turned and made our way towards the main gate and the road back down to the town. 

The sentries there saluted Daeron as he approached and he exchanged friendly words with them and then we entered one of the towers and started to climb a long winding stair, the treads of which were worn by the endless passage of boots. Occasionally we would reach a landing and then continue and I could see at intervals through small windows that let in a little wintry light as we climbed past that we were gaining considerable height above the courtyard. After what felt like a very long time we eventually emerged through a low metal studded door set in the wall into a pillared chamber under a vaulted timber roof with great open arches that faced each point of the compass. I realised that we must be at the very top of the tower and the view from up there took my breath away, notwithstanding the icy wind tugging at my cloak. We looked west first, and Daeron described what lay in front of us. Far below the road back down the ravine dropped away towards the town, which spread out below us like a scholar’s map. I could glimpse the river here and there through the gaps in the sea of snow covered roofs, and the line of the city walls. Beyond the land rose gently in a series of wooded ridges and the road west, running more or less straight here, quickly disappeared from sight. Unlike the those we had travelled in recent days this one was conspicuously empty. My pulse quickened at the thought of what lay that way, the lost lands of Western Rhudaur where my uncle had fought and died and beyond them the tower and Cardolan and eventually further still the legendary elvish havens my grandfather had spoken of, and the sea. Next we looked North, back the way we had come, and the vale of the Hoarwell, dotted with villages and farms on the right bank at least, wound away into the distance. In the northern sky great piles of ominous dark clouds threatened more snow. I wondered aloud if there was some sorcery in them, as they seemed so dark and menacing to me, but Daeron laughed lightly and dismissed this idea. Eastward lay the rest of the fortress and beyond the road ran along a line of craggy hills and here more villages and farms dotted the landscape. Beyond though, and to the north the land grew steeper and more densely forested and I knew this marked the borderlands of the Shaws, the land of my mother’s people. Far beyond, at the edge of sight the high white tops of the misty mountains blended into the wintry sky, and I knew that somewhere below them in that direction lay the house of the Halfelven in a hidden valley that my grandfather had also told me tales of. Southward, the river wound away through lower wooded country, and the road with it, and I knew we would be marching that way tomorrow. Daeron stood looking thoughfully in that direction for a long while and then he turned away and we retraced our steps down the long stair.


	30. Chapter 30

After our visit to the tower we left the fortress and made our way down the steep road into the town. Daeron was as good as his word and showed me the sights, and there was much to see in the bustling streets, ancient halls and great houses, markets, squares and statues. I had never seen the like and truly felt like the cousin from the country, but I could not help noticing that many of the buildings were in a poor state of repair and even in the better parts of town there were buildings standing forlorn and empty. The inns along the East road and around the great square were far from empty however, but before we repaired there we visited the old bridge. It crossed the river in three wide spans and the river rushed and hissed against the two great stone piers in the middle of the writhing slate grey flood. The roadway over it was wide enough for two wains to pass without difficulty and the cobbles were worn and polished from age and use. The stonework of the parapets was of a craftsmanship that I had never seen before, smooth and almost seamless, and if men had built it then the skills needed to do such work have long been forgotten in our day. The fact was that nobody knew how old the bridge was or who had built it, but the trouble that was caused with the elves in particular when the Kings of Rhudaur tried to levy a toll for the crossing suggested it was older even than the North Kingdom. I ran my hand appreciatively over the smooth stonework of the parapet and then followed Daeron to the far bank. Here the road climbed away and the town continued for a short distance but it was much quieter here and there were quite a few empty and half derelict buildings in the lanes leading off the main road. It was not long before we reached the West Gate, which was guarded in earnest, but kept open during the hours of daylight. Beyond it the road wound its way into the distance through an empty landscape that had once perhaps been farmland but had been reclaimed by the wild. 

We greeted the bored looking guards, and exchanged news with them, they had had word of the battle at the ford and the routing of Angmar, and the column of prisoners had passed through not long since. I noted that here the tale was simply that Nordir had faced and vanquished his foe, with no mention of any desperate defence against all odds or fortuitous last minute return to relieve a siege. Daeron acknowledged we had been in the battle and gave some account of his deeds in it, before telling them to my dismay and embarrassment that I had felled a Silver Captain in single combat. They looked at me with new found respect, but I quickly changed the subject and asked them whether there were many travellers on the road now. Not many was the reply, but a company of grey folk had arrived that very morning and were now resting up at the Black Bear. He indicated a large run down looking Inn just behind us near the gatehouse, which being quiet and out of the way was apparently popular with Elves and Dwarves as they passed through on their increasingly infrequent journeys along the East Road. Daeron looked interested in this news, and after we had wished the guards well he set of purposefully towards the Inn. “Have you ever seen the fair folk?” he asked me. “If they are in the common rooms then we will greet them politely and then leave them in peace and drink some good ale there. We do not want them to think that all of us in this Kingdom are low folk with no manners, who knows there may come a day when we may wish for their aid, though they would have little cause to lend it”. He seemed suddenly filled with boyish excitement, and I thought again how young he looked.

The common rooms were very large and almost completely empty and it took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the gloom after the snow dusted brightness outside, but seated on some benches near a fire burning in the chimney were about a dozen or so grey clad figures. As we approached some of them turned to look at us, but they did not look friendly and eyed us with suspicion. I was struck immediately by their otherness, they had fair faces but it was the eyes that caught my attention, full of intelligence and immense knowledge. I felt at once like a lumbering oaf in their company, and regretted Daeron’s impertinence. He however drew close to the table, bowed and gave the traditional formal greeting in perfect Sindarin and I followed suit a little awkwardly. The faintest look of surprise crossed one or two of their faces, but none replied, save one, who after a moment’s pause stood and returned the greeting in a musical voice, before resuming his seat and continuing the conversation with his companion as if nothing had happened. Our audience was clearly at an end and I was relieved to follow Daeron to the servery where an ageing but still handsome woman called Geleth who obviously knew him served us some flagons of ale that certainly lived up to the billing he had given it. She bemoaned the lack of visitors to her inn in those difficult times, but said she was grateful for the generosity of her guests, who she called her ‘special folk’. They often paid her more than she asked for, especially the elves, and it meant she was able to keep the place going for she was yet another war widow with no husband to keep her. Her visitors kept themselves to themselves though, she told us, though the dwarves would sometimes strike up a conversation, especially after a few flagons of ale. The two, elf and dwarf, never mixed though, and she always made sure the rooms they took were well separated when both were boarding there at the same time. We listened with interest, and drank some more of her superb ale, and Daeron quizzed her enthusiastically, but eventually she had to leave us to attend to her chores. We bade her good day and left the inn without further troubling her guests, who paid us no heed in any case. I had heard that they lived to immeasurable age, and indeed did not die, and wondered if we must be little more than mayflies to them, a thought which made me uneasy. However any such feelings were soon dispelled at the next inn we called at after crossing back over the bridge and entering the main square, and found it bustling and full of soldiers, including Túon who greeted us loudly and called for more ale. My memories of the rest of that day are sketchy at best, but we somehow found our way back to the cold hall where we had been billeted.

We arose before dawn, and I felt very ill, much to Túon’s amusement. During the night the dark clouds we had seen massing in the north the day before had blown southward and when we formed up ready to begin our march in the great courtyard at daybreak it was already snowing heavily. This made the march even more wearisome for me, and I pulled my hood right over my head and saw little more than the snowy ground my feet crossed for much of the time. By noon both men and the accompanying pack animals were up to their knees, and to further add to my misery my boots had sprung a leak and filled with icy water. How we were managing to follow the road I knew not, but it I knew these men must have marched down it many times. Daeron called a halt, and we rested, and I took a moment to look more closely at my surroundings through the steady fall of snow. The river, wider than ever but still grey and muscular ran implacably on to our right, and four leagues or so from the city walls we were back in the wild. From what I could see of it the land looked less steep, low wooded hills disappearing off into the grey murk. We ate a quick meal of hard bread and dried meat and set off again. Freed of the encumbrance of the wains, Daeron had planned to march his men to the next way station in a single day, but the snow had made this impossible. It continued to fall all afternoon and by the time the light began to fade it was thigh deep and we were well short of our target, and a miserable night camped out without a fire followed. Despite the hardship the mood amongst the men was jovial, the enemy had never ranged south of the East Road and in a few days time they would be back home with their families.

So it proved. The next day the wind had changed and a milder breeze had sprung up from the west, driving the clouds back and leaving a watery sun in the sky, and a thaw of sorts began to set in. We began to make better progress and after halting briefly at the way station, a well tended place with a large inn and farmhouse, continued on and managed to make the next town as night fell. It was a small place but neat and lively, and we camped outside the walls. The local Lord had barrels of ale and firewood brought out to us on a wagon and we toasted his health enthusiastically. I could not help noticing as we passed through the following day that there were a number of what I took at first to be children amongst the folk there, but their faces were those of fully grown men and women. I questioned my men about this curious fact and they told me that these were the small folk, who called themselves Stoors, who lived along the river and came in to town to trade and purchase goods. Nobody knew where they had come from but they had lived in this part of Rhudaur for many generations, quietly minding their own business, and as a result nobody took much notice of them either. I did remember then that my grandfather had mentioned them once or twice, and I thought to myself that world was indeed filled with many wonders and curiosities.


	31. Chapter 31

Two days later the two hundred or so men of the Watersmeet Company marched proudly into their home town at sunset, to much acclaim and applause from the people who had lined the streets to welcome them home. I was reminded of my father’s return from battle many years before, but there was nobody here to greet me. Watersmeet was a pretty place, with walls built of a paler stone than that found further north, and it looked almost rosy in the light of the setting sun. The land around it was well ordered and looked prosperous, narrowing to a point between the two mighty rivers, the Hoarwell and Loudwater. We marched into the town square and after brief speeches from the Lord of the town and Daeron, we were dismissed. I bid my squad farewell and wished them well and went to look for Daeron. I found him with a snowy haired man who I immediately recognised as his father, and others of his household. They seemed a little surprised when he introduced me, but they greeted me warmly nonetheless, and made me welcome. Their house was not far from the town but they had come on stocky Rhudaur horses , including one for Daeron to ride home, so my unexpected presence was an additional complication. However Daeron’s mount was a strong fellow and I ended up riding tandem with him, much to my relief as my riding skills were non existent and my experience limited to the single journey on Angon’s mare many years before. He laughed and vowed to remedy this defect in my education during my stay when I told him this. 

It was dark when we reached the hall, but I immediately fell in love with the place. It was exactly as my own family home must once have been, warm and welcoming and full of beautiful things. Daeron too came from an ancient line and his family had settled in the area in the early days of the North Kingdom, and held extensive lands along the banks of the Loudwater, where they farmed and kept flocks just as my own family had once done. Like almost all noble families the pure blood of the west had been mingled over time but they still kept the old customs and observances. Here between the rivers, if anywhere, the blood of the west ran truest in the people, as few had dwelt in that land before the men of the west settled there. The folk in the streets of Watersmeet would not have been out of place in Fornost, or perhaps even one of the great cities of the south.

I have never forgotten those few precious weeks I spent there. It was one of the few times in my life that I have known peace and ease, and I am forever in the debt of those who took me in and treated me as one of their own. I had the opportunity to read books, something I had not done since childhood, sing and play music, and we often spoke in Sindarin rather than the common tongue, so I became more fluent in that speech. True to his word Daeron, and his sister Daerwen schooled me in the arts of riding during my stay, which resulted in much mirth and hilarity and a few bruises for me too. Daerwen was beautiful, and betrothed to the son of the Lord of Watersmeet, but I could not help falling a little in love with her, and I was not convinced that she did not return at least some feelings for me. I had spent time with a few tavern girls like all soldiers did, but this was the first time since my childhood and Lathra that I had really had any genuine feelings for anyone and I was tossed between ecstasy and despair in equal measure. Daeron was no fool and could see what was happening, and tried to gently discourage me, but whilst I agreed with him my heart was not so compliant.

All too soon the day came for us to depart and head north once again. I set aside my borrowed lordling’s clothes and put my soldier’s roughspun back on, taking comfort in the harshness and familiarity of it. This was not my life any more, and I would not crave what I could not have. However my resolve was severely tested when the time came to say farewell to the family, they had truly taken me too their hearts and implored me to return as soon as I could and to look after their son in the mean time. His mother wept as she embraced me, and so did his sister, and there was nothing sisterly about the embrace and kiss she gave me. I rode away with Daeron in silence, and once he was ahead of me I let painful tears course down my cheeks and my heart felt fit to burst.

I threw myself back into the hard routine of soldiering with enthusiasm and it brought me some relief. I was reunited with my squad at Watersmeet and set to drilling them mercilessly and making sure everything they did was up to standard. This did not make me popular, but it did make them respect me, and eventually most of them took pride in being the best trained and best turned out in the company. The march back north was uneventful, and completed without delay. We were allowed a day’s rest in Lastbridge and Daeron and I returned to the Black Bear, but it had been a very quiet winter and Geleth had no guests at that time. We supped some more of her excellent ale and listened to her news and eventually made our way back across the bridge over a river already swollen with snowmelt, an impressive sight indeed. There was to be no repeat of our exploits in the inns on the Great Square however, Daeron had forbidden it as we were marching back to war this time. As we climbed the steep cobbled road up the ravine towards the gates of the fortress a horn sounded and the scattered groups of men ahead of us paused and stepped to one side, waiting. Daeron did the same and I followed, curious to see the cause. Shortly afterwards there came a sound of hooves clattering on the cobbles and a procession of riders appeared, coming slowly down the hill. The riders in front were clearly guards, and I was impressed by the state of repair and cleanliness of their gear and their mounts, which were proper horses rather than the local breed. Behind came a party of richly dressed folk, the first of them a pallid blonde haired youth with a pained expression on his face. Amongst the followers were a pair of women, one a blonde haired girl who looked like a sister to the youth, and beside her another with dark hair and fair features and an air of quiet dignity who caught my eye. They paid us no heed but as they passed Daeron bowed, and I followed suit. “Behold Prince Eldir and Princess Elien of the Royal House of Rhudaur, on their way to yet another feast with some worthy or other” he said with a hint of dry humour in his voice once they were out of earshot. “Spoilt brats the pair of them so it is said, but I didn’t say so”. I laughed at this and asked him who the lady riding with her had been, for I had found her pleasing. He had to think for a moment. “That would be the Lady Idhrethil, companion to the Royal Princess, family from the north somewhere I think, just like you. A widow too, her husband was killed a few years back when the king went north into Angmar and got lost in the fog . He was quite a lot older than her though, so she’s not quite out of your reach“. He chuckled. “My father fought there too” I replied, and he became serious again.

When we reached the draughty hall one of the lads came up to us, saluted and told Daeron that an old man had come there asking for me, and would wait a while at the gatehouse of the citadel if I was minded to see him. I was naturally surprised and intrigued, and asked Daeron’s leave to go back out, which was granted without hesitation. Who could know I was in Lastbridge, and wish to meet me? Then as I strode across the great courtyard, my breath making clouds in the icy air, I realised with a pang of guilt that it could only be Lord Angon, or plain Angon of Northford as he now was. I owed him so much and yet I had not so much as given him a passing thought, let alone enquired after him when we had passed southward before Yule. I made my way up to the gate where the guards were expecting me and I was directed to the guard room, which was pleasantly warm and well lit. There, looking much older than when I had last seen him, and sporting a white beard was indeed Angon. Abandoning all previous formality between us I stepped forward and we embraced. He seemed very pleased to see me, and was surprised and impressed by my unexpected badge of rank and changed appearance. In a short few months I had been transformed from boy into a battle hardened soldier, and it showed. I took off my cloak and we sat down on an bench by the fire and warmed ourselves.   
I asked him what had happened to him after he was summoned from Northford, and how he fared here now. “I was brought here in disgrace, stripped of my title and honours and brought before the king to face his justice. I pleaded my defiance, said that I had been faithful in all that I did, but could not give the truth of it without speaking ill of the king’s command and lack of aid when it was most needed. The truth is that the weasel Barachon sought to place his own man in my stead as he attempts to do everywhere in this land”. He looked around to make sure none overheard us and lowered his voice. “He makes pretence of being the King’s oldest and most loyal friend and servant, but the king is too weak and ill from his constant maladies to see his true purpose. It was only my own long service alongside the King in the old battles that saved me from harsh punishment, he looked upon me mercifully and although I am prisoner in the Fortress I have modest lodgings of my own and am free to go as I wish in both fortress and citadel. I pass my days teaching the children of the Lords and Ladies their lore and history and studying in the King’s library, where there are many wondrous ancient scrolls and tomes. The King is also wont to call for me from time to time and speak with me of the old days, when he was young and vigorous. However I know Barachon does not like this and will often contrive to have our meetings interrupted by one means or another. So for my part I am content enough for now, but fear for the future. But enough of this” he said smiling, “please bring me news of the north?”.

I too glanced around to make sure we were not overheard and told him of all that had passed, of Nordir’s ill fated expedition, of the heroic defence of the ford and town, and lastly of my discovery at Fodric’s and what had passed subsequently in his regard. And then to leaven the mood a little of my journey south, the meeting with the elvish folk and my yuletide sojourn in Watersmeet. But Angon’s craggy face was grim when I finished and I could see that he was full of anger at what he had heard. “These are ill times, and I fear it will not end well. The King’s coffers are empty, the Hillmen are restive and our enemy in the North grows ever stronger. He grinds us down little by little, year after year, and soon we will be too weak to resist him. I am almost glad that I am banished to this fortress, to pass my days amongst dusty books, far from these matters. Yet I fear for those like you who must shoulder the burden of what is to come”. He clasped my arm. “Yet while such as you stand for us there is still hope, and you are well named, Esteldir. I knew your father and uncle in their prime, fine men both, and it is clear from your words and deeds that you are more than worthy to stand in their company.” I opened my mouth to reply, but was unable to form an answer in time as the door opened and two of the guards entered stamping their feet and clapping their hands together and came to the fire to warm themselves. We exchanged pleasantries with them, and then Angon said I would be missed if I did not soon return to my billet, and we rose, put our cloaks back on and went outside into the freezing night air. We embraced once again. “May the Valar protect you” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Be sure to bring me your tidings next time you pass this way. Neither you or I have any kin left to us now, so like a son shall you be to me if you will”. I was surprised and abashed at his unexpected frankness, but deeply touched too, and told him that it would be so. We parted, Angon turned and departing slowly back under the citadel gate, and I trudged over the frosted cobbles back the way I had come with my mind a whirl of conflicted thoughts and feelings. When I reached the hall the fire had burned low and everyone was asleep, and it took me some time before I was able to join them.

We resumed our uneventful march north the following morning, and Daeron soon found me and asked me about the previous night’s mystery visitor. I told him everything that had passed between us and he grew thoughtful. “I fear all he says is true” he said. “Lord Angon is a brave and honourable man and has been very badly used. Barachon seeks to make himself the true power in the land behind the back of a King weakened by illness, and Nordir is one of his men, rash and ambitous. I fear he may be right, and we are all doomed, but I hope it is not so and will do all I can to that end, especially if I have good men around me. Do not breathe a word of this to anyone else, for such talk could cost us all our necks“. I swore that I would not and thanked him, and when he had gone marvelled a little once again at my good fortune in having such a fine friend and Captain.


	32. Chapter 32

The weather, though still cold carried the promise of spring and we reached Bearcliffe under clear skies and bright sunshine. The land was still brown and flattened, and here and there remnants of the snow remained in shaded spots, but it would not be long before the green shoots of spring would show themselves and transform the scene. The town was bustling as it had been when we had last been there, and we were once again forced to camp outside the walls as there was no room for us in the Keep. Here we met Northford squads preparing to return North with another caravan of wagons, led by none other than my old mentor and adversary Sergeant Cenric. I had not seen him since we were assigned, and when I met him in the company of Daeron we greeted each other warmly, and with much lighthearted bantering. He declared me to be the dead spit of my father at eight and ten, and that by all accounts I had been his equal in battle too. I blushed but Daeron supported with the sentiment, and I told the grizzled old warrior that I took that as a great honour and wished him well. It was resolved that we would join forces on the way back north - there had been much trouble on the road since it had reopened, with large bands of orcs ranging through the high country well to the south of Northford and attacking the previously peaceful villages and traffic along the South Road. It was clear that the victories in the autumn had won us no respite this time, and I once again pondered Angon’s gloomy words about the growing power of our enemy. Cenric had lost four men and a couple of wagons on the way south when they were waylaid in the dark near the old way station. 

The second half of our journey was consequently much slower than the first, but fortunately just as uneventful, perhaps our unaccustomed numbers deterred any thought of attack. To my pleasure I discovered my old friend Aldarion was also amongst the Northford soldiery on the road, and I spent much of ithe march north in his company. He pointed out the house on the hillside where his family lived as we approached Northford, but told me gloomily that they had withdrawn to the town for now, as several of the farms on their lands had been attacked and burned, and it had been a hard winter. My heart sank, as I recognised how the tale might run, as it had many other times in this land. When we finally reached Northford it seemed smaller and more drab than I had remembered it, for I had seen greater and fairer towns on my travels. We entered the South Gate unremarked and without ceremony in the early afternoon of the sixth day after we had marched from Lastbridge, weary and travel stained. Daeron and Túon accompanied Cenric to the Keep and I took the rest of the men back to our camp on the East Meadow and set about re-establishing our settlement.

We were allowed a few days to rest and organise ourselves and then our duties resumed. Ironically my first task was to take my squad straight back down the road to Bearcliffe, a journey I was to repeat numerous times over the next few months. We were attacked several times, and at a cost, but I also managed to turn the tables on several occasions. Our foes were wont to attack us on the sections of the road where it climbed away from the river into the hills, and I was fortunate enough to second guess them on several occasions and take some of my men into the hills and come down by surprise onto their rear as they prepared to attack us. We made them pay dearly when we could, and I was glad I had drilled my men so well, for it gave us a great advantage in that situation. The numerous visits to Bearcliffe allowed me to get to know the place better, and being at something of a crossroads in the Kingdom there was always plenty of gossip to be overheard in the taverns. In this matter I had the advantage over my fellows, as I could understand the Hill Tongue and they could not, and the sound of their southern accents often fooled the speakers into thinking none of us could understand what they were saying, which loosened their tongues as much as the ale.

It seemed things went ill in the Shaws, and there was much discontent amongst the Hillmen. Their Chieftain was said to be a virtual prisoner in his own halls and Lord Aglarion, who held the garrison for the King in High Burgh was a grim and implacable man. Furthermore the traders who brought their wares down the valley of the White River to Bearcliffe complained vehemently about the size of the taxes imposed upon them by the Lord of the town, and the rough treatment they received at the hands of the King’s soldiers manning the local garrison. These were mostly southerners from Lastbridge or beyond, who were fond of describing them as hill swine or troll kin. Coming from a region where most people had the Hill blood running through their veins to a greater or lesser extent this was something new and disturbing to me, though I had detected hints of it on my previous journey into the south. In the south Dundedain blood ran a little truer, and was more often diluted with that of Plainsmen rather than Hill folk, so it was easy to see how such feelings could arise or be provoked. Naturally I took no side and both in this matter, and was able to defuse situations where blows were about to be struck on more than one occasion by surprising the antagonists and speaking with them in their own tongue. Elsewhere in the Kingdom things went ill too, the Carters brought many tales of discontent north with them, of a King too quick to raise his taxes and too slow to pay his debts. As a result merchants and craftsmen struggled to make a living, journeymen could not find enough work and many common folk had gone hungry in the south as well as the north over the winter. They also grumbled much about their masters, Fodric amongst them, who grew ever wealthier whilst their work became more and more dangerous. I smiled grimly to myself whenever I heard this sort of talk, and hoped that one day one of them would lose patience and buy my revenge for me. But it did not happen, and I was even forced to act as escort for him on one of our journeys. As sergeant in command I had to speak with him on a regular basis to discuss the disposition of my men and plan the journey. It was all icy formality between us, and he wisely kept his hulking bodyguards close to him the whole time. Unfortunately no orcs attacked us, though for once I fervently hoped they might, and give me an opportunity to finish him myself if they did not.

The summer that year was unusually wet and cold, and farmers began to fear for their crops. It also made the guard duty on the road particularly miserable and both my men and I were grateful when we were eventually reassigned to the defence of Northford. Our gratitude however proved to be premature as we simply exchanged the misery of trudging along the road day after day in the pouring rain, with the same thing in the wild hills and forests, along with a much greater degree of peril. This was proper soldiering, hunting the orc bands who came in ever greater numbers from the north, and although no scout like my father had been I had perhaps inherited a little of his talent. We went out in groups of three or four squads, sixty to eighty men under the command of a Lieutenant with archers and scouts, and played a deadly game of cat and mouse, using ambush, diversions and bait to bring our enemy to bay. Their losses must have outstripped ours ten to one at times, but they apparently had little or no effect on their ability to wage war on us whilst we felt the loss of each man keenly. I can still remember the faces of many of those who fell under my command at that time as clear as day, though I have forgotten most of their names. 

I soon grew to know the lands all around Northford very well, each sad ruined village or great house, every vale and crag and old road half reclaimed by the forest. I visited Rushwater Vale several times, and fought there too. The first time was the evening following a battle in the forest, and as we marched downhill through the trees they thinned a little and we came upon some tumbled ruined stonework, where a halt was called for the night. As I stood there amongst the stones I was overcome with the feeling that I had been in that place before, and it was not long before one of the Northford Sergeants, a heavy set man called Rogir who had been marching with us came over to me and asked me in a kindly tone if I had realised where I was. I did then, and nodded to him in acknowledgement. Once I had seen to my duties I found my way to the family burial ground and stood silently for a while in front of my grandfather’s tomb marker, thinking of him and all those who had gone before him who lay in the earth around us and offering a small prayer to them to lend me strength in my hour of need. I spent that night at least inside the walls of my ancient home, though they were laid low and open to the sky, and slept soundly despite myself, so perhaps my prayers did receive some small answer.

So as a dismal summer faded into autumn, it became clear that Nordir’s plan to turn the tide from the north with his reinforcements had failed. It was not as if Angmar had actually sent an army against us again, and yet we were still hard pressed at every turn. To make matters worse the trickle of townsfolk heading away down the South Road never to return, which had begun with the battle of the ford had continued all through the summer, and a noticeable number of houses in the town now lay empty and silent. I was weary of fighting by this time and secretly hoped that I might once again go south for Yule with the rest of the company and have another spell of genuine respite from it all, and so it might have been had not one of the King’s messengers come riding up the South Road with the news that High Burgh had risen in revolt, and that the garrison there had been sacked. Nordir was commanded to send at least two companies down to Bearcliffe at once to meet up there with the main force from Lastbridge. Even Nordir was wise enough not to send a Northford Company full of men from the Shaws against their own kin, so the duty fell to Daeron and Berenion.


	33. Chapter 33

Two days later we formed up in full order at dawn on the road outside the South Gate, around five hundred strong. Once again the bite of approaching winter was in the air, and the first snows on the distant summits of the Misty Mountains were rosy in the early morning light. No crowds cheered us on our way, notwithstanding the early hour it was likely that many who lived in Northford harboured some sympathy toward the uprising. Furthermore Nordir who stood for the King in the town was now deeply unpopular amongst the ordinary folk. There had been some talk in our camp from some of the lads about putting the troll-kin in their place and the like, as soldiers are wont, but I heard none from my own men and they knew I would not have tolerated it from them. Daeron too was also troubled by this expedition and thought no good could come of it. We had spoken on the matter privately and he told me that he feared that too strong a response on the King’s part would drive the Hillmen into the arms of Angmar, but that any perception of weakness on his part would only embolden them. The mission we were embarking on needed a leader of skill and diplomacy, however Lord Berthedir who Daeron had named, and who was a cousin of Nordir’s, was not such a man. He was bold, impatient and prideful, and no doubt marched north like all his soldiers determined to crush the rebellion mercilessly. It seemed the long accord and mutual dependance between our mingled peoples that had bound the realm together for so long was finally unravelling, to the great peril of us all. 

I marched south in the van of our Company alongside Daeron, who had asked me to bring up my squad up to the front so that I should be on hand if there was any need to speak or understand the Hill Tongue. We did not lead however as Berenion took overall command through his seniority, and his men marched ahead of us. We made excellent time on the march and were not surprisingly untroubled by orc or brigand on our way down the South Road. We came upon the main army outside the walls of Bearcliffe at dusk on the second day, their many camp fires twinkling like stars in the evening sky and gratefully joined them. They were about three and a half thousand strong, all that could be raised at short notice in Lastbridge or spared in Bearcliffe, and though a strong force I did wonder whether it would prove sufficient against a numerous foe defending their home ground. I did my best to banish any gloomy thoughts and let sleep take me.

In the morning we broke our fast and were ordered to gather outside the town gate and listen to Lord Berthedir make a speech. He sat astride a large prancing horse dressed in shining plate, shouting and gesticulating, and when he had done a mighty cheer went up from those ahead of us, but we were too distant to hear anything he said. Afterwards he rode through the press of men and I got a better view of him. He reminded me very much of his kinsman in appearance as far as it was possible to make out, but he was much younger and still of an age to wield a blade well enough from the look of him. Afterwards horns sounded and we formed up along the road, finding ourselves once again towards the rear of the column. It was a while before we eventually got moving and I had time to have a good look around. There were crowds of townsfolk watching from the walls and gathered by the gate, but not many were cheering or waving. For all the enmity between Lastbridge and High Burgh, this town depended on the trade between the two for its livelihood, and here as well as in the north the blood of the west and the hillmen had become mingled, as a result loyalties were divided amongst the common folk.

The road climbed gently away at first from the town under the shadow of the lowering crag that named it, following the land on the east bank of the White River, which was well named as it thundered down to meet the Hoarwell. It ran in a steep sided vale that cut deep into the heart of the Shaws, a great craggy forested highland that covered most of central and northern Rhudaur. It was about 15 leagues and three day’s march from Bearcliffe to the chief town of the Hillmen, and the road provided the only easy way in and out of the highlands, certainly for anything that went drawn on wheels. After a few hours marching the valley narrowed and steepened, and farmland gave way to sombre forests of tall pines, and we passed a great standing stone at the side of the road. This was the Borderstone, which marked the ancient boundary beyond which the writ of the chieftains of High Burgh ran, though they also remained loyal subjects of the King. Now we were marching in what was now enemy territory our vigilance increased, but in truth the ground either side of the road there would have been too steep for an effective ambush and we remained untroubled.

We passed a few scattered hamlets and a small roadside inn that clung to the edge of the road where the ground had relented a little. The inhabitants had wisely fled into the forest or up along the road as we approached and by the time we passed them the buildings with their thatched roofs were all well alight, having been torched by our vanguard as they passed. I wondered what would become of those who had dwelt there, with winter approaching. Daeron shook his head at the sight. “There is no need for this” he said sadly. “These simple folk did not rebel and we should have no quarrel with them, what love will they have now for a king who burns them out of their homes with the first snows of winter on their way?” 

We knew from the maps that there was a small town half a day’s march hence where the valley widened, and expecting the Hillmen to make a stand there. Berthedir called a halt before nightfall, so we should not risk coming upon the enemy with the light fading and give them the advantage of knowing the country. We set up camp strung out along the road and in the margins of the forest, for the valley was still steep and rocky here, and the White River roared endlessly in its bed far below. Though a light rain fell there was plenty of kindling to be found and we soon had good fires burning to keep our spirits up as the night fell. I ate with Daeron and Túon and some of the others and they quizzed me about the Hillmen and the Shaws. I told them as much as I could remember from my lessons with my grandfather and the things my mother had told me, and they listened with interest and asked me a questions that I answered as best I could. The mood in our camp was quiet and reflective as it always was the night before battle but to my surprise there were sounds of merriment further up the road. I went round my own men and spoke quietly to them all in turn, and then we drew lots for the watches. I escaped for once and found a good spot under a large old pine and settled down, like I had so many times in the last few years, and let sleep take me at will, an important skill for any soldier.


	34. Chapter 34

When we woke the following morning the weather had taken a turn for the worse, an icy wind was blowing and there was sleet in it. We broke fast and then formed up ready to resume the march, every man checking and rechecking his gear in anticipation of what lay ahead. It was however a while before the horn finally sounded and the column began to move, and a command coming down the line to be vigilant. Scouts had been sent ahead during the night and had reported the enemy massed on open land beyond the forest not three leagues distant, so it seemed certain battle would be joined that day. The valley grew less steep and widened as we climbed the road, and our course gradually veered away from the river, running straight between the eaves of the forest. I had no doubt we too were being observed in turn, and wondered why the Hillmen had not thought to attack us from the cover of the forest, strung out and vulnerable as we were in marching order, just as Cardolan and Arthedain had when they had crushed us. The current Chieftain’s father had perished in that fight protecting the Prince’s retreat twenty three years earlier, and the Hillmen had always maintained that the Prince, now King, had never fully acknowledged his sacrifice.

But no attack came and as the day wore on and the weather worsened the trees began to thin and eventually failed and just as the scouts had forewarned us e came out into open land, dotted with farms and stands of trees. The enemy host was waiting for us up a long low sloping ridge that reached across the vale from the heights to our right hand. The road ran straight up to it and then dog legged towards the river to round it at its lowest part, and just beyond it there lay a small town, half obscured in the rain sodden murk. I had looked at an old map before we set off from Northford and as far as I could remember it went by the pleasant name of Greenhow, presumably from the ridge. Our enemy had the advantage both of the lie of the land and in numbers, I guessed they had at least half as many men again as we had fielded, perhaps seven or eight thousand. Though I still feared death as keenly as any man faced with battle this was something I had faced many times now, and I did so with a clearer mind. I knew what I needed to do to survive, and I also had a responsibility to the twenty or so men under my command to support and direct them, so I was too busy to let any morbid thoughts linger for long. This was however my first fight in a proper pitched battle where we would stand in formation and under direction. Our orders came thick and fast and we dumped our packs amongst the trees and formed up, and I noted the standard of the drill with some satisfaction again. Our Northford companies stood right in the centre of the battle formation, where the fight would surely be fiercest. Although we were the most experienced soldiers I did wonder a little sourly why we, who would be at the very front of the battle had been made to march in the tail all the way from Bearcliffe.

We stood for a while, in neat ranks with the rain stinging our eyes and pinging on our helms, whilst messengers ran backwards and forwards and the rest of the host formed up around us. Another company marched in and lined up behind us along with some squads of archers, and the Lord Berthedir rode past on his horse, shouting and exhorting us, but once again most of what he said was lost to me. Then horns sounded the familiar short signal and we began to move forward in slow step. There will have been few of us whose guts did not churn at the sound and who did not clutch their weapons even harder in anticipation of what was about to happen and I was no exception. Ahead of us on the brow of the ridge, perhaps three furlongs distant milled the great host of Hillmen, who in contrast to our own ranks did not appear fight in any kind of formal order. I could see them clearly now, they wore a great variety of gear and carried many different weapons, some seeming to be little more than farmer’s lads carrying scythes and cudgels, whilst others were clearly well equipped and well armed. They had the lie of the land, their greater numbers and the fact they were defending their home soil in their favour. My own heart was certainly not in this fight for these were my countrymen and kin, and I had no love for the likes of Berthedir and his ilk, but all the same I knew what I had to do and I did not want to let my men down.

We had closed half the distance to the enemy when their inferior organisation and discipline caused them to make a fatal error. Seeing us closing, a spontaneous roar went up and parts of the host began to stream down the hillside, and despite ther obvious dismay and reluctance were soon followed by the rest who came running across the fields towards us to meet us on equal terms. Horn blasts sounded, a hailstorm of arrows rushed over our heads and we formed a shield wall and levelled our spears. Then they were onto us, the first few wavering as they ran into a double line of spear tips, but the more that were skewered the more gaps began to form and the Hillmen crashed through into out shield wall. It gradually disintegrated in the press as brutal hand to hand fighting broke out, but we held our ground, and the arrows continued to whistle and whine through the air around us in both directions. It was a dreadful battle, fought in pouring rain on muddy ground, and I only just managed to avoid slipping over on more than one occasion when a fall would almost certainly have been fatal. Two years of hard soldiering had however left their mark on me, for now I was able to fight with a clear mind, and felt less when faced with the terrible sights, sounds and deeds. I rallied my men and we drove forward into the crowd of enemies, hewing and slashing and driving them back. They were many and fierce, and for a while their greater numbers still counted. After a while I began to grow more and more weary, and took blows that shook me and marred my shield. However our experience and discipline did begin to tell, and we began to drive their centre backwards, a little at first and then with increasing speed until it turned into a full scale retreat. We followed them up the bank, cutting them down as they fled, and made the crest, gasping for breath and sinking to our knees in relief. I met Daeron there, as weary, muddy and bloodied as I was and we clasped arms and smiled joyfully. “Well met brother” he said. We both turned to survey the battlefield as our men continued to stream up the slope and join us, calling out in joy and relief to each other, for it was clear that the day was going our way. We had driven a wedge through the centre of our foe and had split them clean in two. Towards the river the fighting still raged, but on our left hand the enemy were continuing to retreat towards the edge of the forest and the heights above it.

We did not rest for long though, our numbers swelled, and Berenion joined us. He and Daeron resolved to take the companies down the crest of the ridge to the road where the battle continued and attempt to cut off the enemy’s escape. The command was sounded and we formed up once again into battle order. Although we had not suffered excessive losses there were still many obvious gaps in the ranks of my squad, all made by good men I had lived and fought alongside for a very long time and who had become my friends and brothers. I shook my head to try and clear those thoughts, but another kept gnawing at me, and that was that I had not seen Túon since the beginning of the battle. Ordinarily he would have been in the thick of it and inseparable from Daeron, and I hoped that there was a simple explanation for his disappearance.

The march down the ridge proved decisive, and in fear of being cut off the remainder of the army of the Hillmen fighting by the river broke and fell back when they saw us coming. They fled back along the road around the end of the ridge and onward towards the town. A cheer went up, among our own ranks and those below, for it was clear the day was ours. We rejoined the main part of the host at the road, and Berthedir, still mounted on his great horse and resplendent in his markedly clean enamelled armour, dismounted and strode across to meet Berenion and Daeron. He clasped arms and embraced them both in turn, and praised their valour and discipline, hailing them as heroes for breaking the enemy’s centre and outflanking them. A cheer went up from all those around us, but I did not join in, for I was too weary and heartsick. Our companies were commanded to hold the road and field whilst the others who were still relatively fresh pressed on towards the town, and Berthedir went with them. 

It was suddenly very quiet, and it began to rain again. Men stood in small groups, talking quietly or resting in silence, and others tended to wounded comrades. Daeron came over to me looking grim, and I knew what he was going to tell me. “Túon?” I asked him, and he shook his head. “Malvegil and his lads saw him go down early on. We have one of the finest men I ever knew”. His voiced cracked and he turned away, and I could make no reply. We moved back across the battlefield, only able to succour a few of the many who still lay there dying of their wounds and pleading for help, both in the Common and Hill tongues. It was a scene of death and devastation on a scale greater than I had ever seen before, even at Northford. As night began to fall we returned to the eaves of the forest and recovered our packs. I could not help but notice ones strewn along the ground that would never now be collected. The time would soon come for friends to empty them and share anything of use and value, as was the tradition. Unable to find enough dry kindling to start a fire we ate a cold supper and began to prepare a camp for the night. Though the light was beginning to fade I noticed a great pall of smoke go up over the town on the far side of the ridge, and thought our enemy must have made a stand there after all.


	35. Chapter 35

Although it had finally stopped raining there was frost in the air and I could not get warm in my damp clothes, so sleep was slow to come and fitful. I could not stop thinking about Túon either, he had been such a large and seemingly indestructible presence in our lives, and to lose him so abruptly made me feel much more vulnerable. There was further disturbance too as other companies returned across the battlefield to collect their gear and pitch camp, some carrying torches, others almost blundering into us in the dark, many of them apparently drunk. That would have been bearable, and normal enough, but suddenly, in the distance there was another sound, the unmistakeable sobbing and pleading of a woman. It became louder, and there were shouts and laughter too, and then the flickering of torches. They entered our camp to find their way blocked by Daeron, arms folded, with at least twenty men at his side. The group halted, perhaps ten or twelve strong, two of them grasping a struggling woman by the arms. She had thick dark curly hair just like my mother’s, and in the torchlight she could almost have passed for her. Their purpose with her was clear, and weary though I was the old rage rose within me and I found myself trembling. “Explain yourselves” said Daeron in the cool tone we all recognised and had learned to fear. “Unhand her”. The leader of the group, who was a sergeant and obviously drunk looked nonplussed for a moment. “Why? We’re just having some fun, it is our due!”. “Not in this army” came the stern reply, and the grin vanished from the man’s face as he suddenly realised the gravity of his situation. “Let her go boys” he said quietly. “Do what the Captain says”. She dropped to the ground, where she remained sobbing, and they backed off into the night. Daeron was furious, and disgusted at the lack of correct behaviour and discipline which he would never have tolerated in his own Company. He swore he would go straight to Berthedir, and Belegon their captain, in the morning and report them. Disquiet had added to his anger however, for smoke, drunken soldiers and captive women were the hallmarks of a sacking, something only orcs had previously been capable of, it was unthinkable that our soldiers could do the same to a town full of the king’s own subjects. And yet I thought, Berthedir had not thought twice before ordering innocent villagers and innkeepers burned out of their homes as we had marched up from Bearcliffe.

I went to the woman and put my cloak around her. She recoiled at first, and whimpered, but when I spoke to her in her own tongue and told her we would not harm her she became a little quieter, and remained where she was, trembling and sobbing. A sleeping draught, such as that given to the wounded or dying was brought out and offered to her and she took it from me reluctantly, but afterwards fell quickly into a drugged sleep. Men stood round with expressions of concern on their faces, until they were dismissed by Daeron, who charged me with taking care of her and finding out what had befallen her. I regretfully rummaged in some packs and found a dead man’s cloak and threw it over her, and took another for myself and settled down nearby.

When I woke, cold and stiff and covered in frost she was already sat up in her cloak, staring mutely into space with red rimmed eyes full of pain. It tore my heart to see anyone like that, and when I rose and went to speak to her she did not answer me at first. I left her, walking the stiffness from my limbs and went over to where some of the lads had finally managed to get a smoky fire going and were brewing some tea. They gave me a cup and I took it back to her and she took it from me, sipping it thirstily between bruised lips. It seemed to revive her a little, and she thanked me in a whisper. I told her my name and asked her if she was hungry. She nodded and I brought us some bread and dried meat and we ate it together in silence. Once she had finished I asked what her name was. “Maelith” she replied quietly. “wife of Derlath the Baker and mother to his five children”. Her voice was dry and matter of fact up until that point but at the mention of her children she broke down again. I waited until she eventually became quiet again, stifling the odd sob. I made to speak but before I was able to phrase my question she began to answer it, in a low voice. “We saw the battle end and the fighters retreating round the hill, so many men running, stumbling and falling. The red bears caught up with some of them and cut them down, most carried on up the Burgh road, while others came into the town, and the gates were eventually closed just in time. But our walls were built to keep thieves and wild animals out at night, not an army. The bears broke the gate and streamed in over the walls and fighting started, but when they had killed all the soldiers then they carried on… Derlath saw what was happening and we hid in the cellar and barred the doors, but they set fire to our home and we were forced to come out or burn”. She paused for a while, trembling, and became a little incoherent. “Derlath… they got him, the children, I don’t know, I think they ran but I don’t know. Then they took me…I…”. I raised my hand gently to indicate I had heard enough, got up and turned away, filled with dread at what I had heard. I found Daeron and without a word he ushered me away from the others so we could speak privately. I told him what I knew and it was obvious he shared my dismay. “It is as I feared, our Lords have taken leave of their senses. We may subdue the Hillmen for a time in this fashion, but they will never forgive what we have done here. Their hatred will grow like weeds, and so too again in time will their strength. If there was ever any doubt of it before they will league themselves with Angmar now, and the days of the kingdom are numbered”. His voice cracked with emotion and I thought he would weep. “All we have stood for, fought for and bled and died for has been betrayed here. I wish I could throw away my arms and walk away from here and never look back, or strike down those who did these evil deeds, or did nothing to prevent them. Yet to attempt to do any of these things would see my head struck from my shoulders without a second thought, and I have no wish for that either. Men such as you and I are trapped here now, and for the first time in my life I know not what to do”. I was shocked at his frankness, and thought for once how young and lost he looked. He rallied a little. “Yet we must do what we can, for what little worth it may have”. “The woman?” I asked. “What is to become of her?”. The pain returned to his face. “Today we honour our dead and bury them. I fear there is little we can do for her, but go into the town and see if you can find her some clothing and food. We will give her a purse and perhaps she can travel with the wounded back to Bearcliffe?”. I thought it unlikely she would, did not say so, and made to turn away and go back to her, but he was not done with me. “ There is also the small matter of the loss of my lieutenant, and though none could truly replace a man of such worth I am still in need of a replacement, someone I can trust and rely on. You are still very young, but wise beyond your years and battle hardened., These are strange days when all we knew and took for granted is thrown into the hazard. Your men like and respect you and you do not lack for courage, so I am minded to name you. Think on it, and give me your mind on the matter later”. I was almost too surprised to speak, but managed to thank him and say I was honoured to be considered. I felt tormented by conflicting emotions, despair, fear and elation. My father had been made a captain at the tender age of twenty seven, and here was I potentially a lieutenant at nineteen. I knew he would have been proud of me,but the dread of our situation and surroundings soon stifled any small glimmer of happiness I might have felt and I steeled myself as I returned to Maelith and tell her what we purposed for her.


	36. Chapter 36

Maelith’s eyes widened when I told her what I intended to do, and she immediately demanded to be allowed to come with me. Not knowing what horrors might await I tried to dissuade her, but she became distressed and pleaded with me not to leave her alone amongst men who could not speak her tongue. I gave in and went to find some hot water for her to wash in, and cleaned myself up as best I could too, and a little while later we joined the lines of men heading towards the battlefield to begin the grim work of the day gathering and burying their fallen brothers. The Hillmen would have to wait for this mercy however as they were too numerous and Berthedir was impatient to press his advantage and march on High Burgh before they could regroup, so they were left under the open sky where they had fallen. Any battlefield is a scene of horror and this one was no exception, and the poor woman walked along in a daze, tears running down her cheeks. I said nothing, for I feared we might face worse when we reached the town. I was challenged as to my business several times as we went and answered tersely that I was following orders and not to hinder me. I was forced to draw my sword on one occasion when a group of men began to jeer at Maelith and tried to block our passage. 

As we rounded the shoulder of the ridge, what remained of the town came into view and I felt a mounting feeling of dread. Many of the buildings I could see were roofless and smouldering, and the road up to what remained of the town gate was littered with the dead. I could see how the gate had been broken so easily and the walls overcome for they were little more than a palisade on top of an earthen bank. We were alone now, and nobody hindered our entry into the town. My companion said nothing but gathered her cloak around her and increased her pace, stepping over the bodies that were now thickly scattered underfoot. I drew breath sharply at what I saw, for there were townsmen and women amongst those lying there, and then children too. I let out a low moan and choked back a sob of my own, for this was too much to bear. My companion continued on her silent quest, and I followed her from street to street amongst the blackened shells of the shops and houses. Finally she stopped, let out a hideous scream and threw herself down on the ground, grasping at something and giving full vent to her anguish. I stood in the ruin, powerless and wretched and unable to act. She stood up and I saw the something was another child, and then she screamed “murderers!” and launched herself at me, beating me with her fists, demented and distraught. I could not reply, and fell back, but then with a shriek she snatched my dagger from its sheath on my belt and attempted to stab me with it. However I caught the blow instinctively with my shield hand and the knife bit into my palm and blood gouted from the wound giving me a scar I still carry. I cried out in pain, and then turned and fled, but I was lost at first in the maze of narrow streets and alleyways full of death and almost came back upon her before I realised my error and eventually found the gate. I wandered back across the battlefield in a daze, blood soaking the rag I had tied around my wounded hand. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I cared not who saw them.

I found the company busy with the heartbreaking work of gathering up our fallen and digging a burial pit at the edge of the forest. Bodies wrapped in cloaks lay in neat rows on the ground, and more were being brought to join them whilst I watched. Daeron was preoccupied with overseeing the work but noticed my arrival and came to speak to me, again drawing me away from the others. I think my face told him all he needed to know, but he pressed me to tell him what I had seen. “May the Valar save us” he sighed when I had finished. “And the woman?”. “She came with me, I could not stop her” I replied shamefaced. “She went mad with grief and tried to kill me”. I raised my wounded hand. “To my undying shame and regret I fled from her, for we wear the red and black of those who burned her town and put her children to the sword, and will never be forgiven for it. We cannot help her now”. He looked grave. “I must speak of this with Berenion, for all his stiffness and formality he is a just and honourable man. This is the work of the Lastbridge companies, fiercely loyal to Barachon and eager to avenge the massacre of their brothers in the High Burgh garrison. Come with me”.

Berenion’s company were engaged in the same grim work we were, and they had dug their pit in the shadow of a copse next to a tumbledown barn out on the plain. He saluted our arrival solemnly. He was much older than Daeron, perhaps forty five years of age or so, tall of stature with short cropped white hair and a pleasing lined face with a naturally wry expression. He nodded towards the pit. “Twenty seven at the last count, how did you fare?”. “Thirty five is our tally” replied Daeron, “but I have lost Túon and many other good men. Still we must be grateful there were not more”. “Indeed” he replied, “that is a bitter loss indeed given all we have been through these last two years. A quarter of the men who marched north under my command then no longer stand with us from one cause or another. I fear we have taken more than our fair share of the burden of this fight, excepting our brave brothers in the north of course”. He nodded towards me and I was surprised and pleased both to be remembered and acknowledged by him and inclined my head in thanks. “Esteldir is it not? You have come far since I assigned you to Daeron’s company. But pray, to what do I owe a visit at this time? I divine that you too are troubled by what is said to have happened last night in Greenhow Town. Tomorrow’s march will take us past the place and will surely tell all, but I do wonder if there was more to our being ordered to guard the rear by Berthedir than met the eye. It was his men who took the town and did bloody deeds. Hopefully the tale has grown in the telling and things are not so bad as all that”. I piped up “I have been in the town today, and they are as bad as can be. Orcs could not have done worse, the whole place was torched and put to the sword. This was no accident caused in the heat of a fight. I would have the head of any of my own men who did harm to innocent townfolk”. His face fell and he grew angry “I did not swear my oath of service for this kind of work, and will withdraw my company to Lastbridge and seek the King’s mercy if it is so. Let us go and speak on the matter to Berthdedir”. “Brother” Daeron replied, looking concerned “I fear it is Barachon who dispenses the King’s mercy in Lastbridge these days, so I would temper your words or your neck may be forfeit”.

Berthedir was in his tent with two of the Lastbridge Captains, Belegon and Edwenion, looking at a scroll showing a map of the Shaws. They all looked up as his servant announced our entry. Close up he was younger than I had thought, seemingly not much older than Daeron , but he had the easy air of one used to command and once again I marvelled at his impeccable attire and beautifully tooled breastplate. “Brothers, welcome” he said affably. “We were just looking at what lies ahead of us on the march tomorrow. One more day and we will be in striking distance of their main lair. We were debating whether they will stand and fight again, or whether we might have to besiege them. What do you think?”. Berenion stepped forward. “My Lord” he said, quiet and dignified. “Please forgive me for speaking frankly. I have to confess I am deeply concerned at the reports that our own soldiers have sacked the nearby town and put innocents to the sword. If they be true then surely this runs counter to our vows of service and all that we stand for as sons of the west?”. The mood in the tent changed in an instant, and Berthedir became angry. “The west?” he spat, “what does that avail us? The men of the west were never in such dire straits as we find ourselves now, with all their mighty hosts and shiny elvish friends. They could afford to be delicate and toy with honour and justice, but we are few in number and beset by an enemy at every point of the compass. Only those capable of bold deeds will prevail in such times. Think ye that the campaign was won with the yesterday‘s victory? No, for the enemy still have the greater number and have the hard country on their side, and that weighs heavily in their favour. And though we might carry another day, and another beyond that you can be sure that they would still grind us down little by little, day by day, month by month and year by year just as Angmar does in the north. There have you have won many battles but still you cannot best your foe. But now because of our strength and resolve we have a mighty and fell weapon on our side - fear. The Hillmen will be filled with doubt and unmanned by the thought of a foe who has no mercy, a foe who destroys all in his path, and even now they will be debating whether they should abandon their insurrection and sue for peace. Against a victory and peace in the realm what are a few townsfolk who few knew of or cared for? All of you - your vow of service was one of loyalty to the King, and those who are set in place to command you do so in his name. It is a hard road and we must all find the strength to do what must be done, and any who fail in their duty will find their lives forfeit. Now return to your companies, bury your dead with honour and trouble me no more. I doubt not that we will fight again ere night fall tomorrow, so prepare yourselves.


	37. Chapter 37

We bade farewell to our fallen and heaped the soil over them as the daylight faded into an angry sunset. The strengthening wind had turned to the north again and clouds were massing, and I thought it could not be long before we would see snow. Daeron said the traditional words of parting and then warned the men that there would be no rest, and that the following day’s march would bring us close to High Burgh where it was to be expected that the Hillmen would stand and fight. He urged every man to do his duty, to the King, the people and to each other and to remember the vows they had made when they became soldiers.

We had left Berthedir’s tent in silence, and Berenion parted from us without a word to rejoin his own men. When Berthedir had spoken of townsfolk whom few had heard of or cared for I could only see Maelith clutching her dead child, and the old hot rage rose in me again. However I had known that anything other than complete self mastery would mean death in that place - unlike most of the soldiers from the south the blood of the Hillmen ran thick in my veins, and the suspicion of treason would sit easily on my shoulders. Indeed my thoughts were treasonous, I wished for nothing more than to be able to throw away my weapons and gear and disappear into the wilderness and not return. I felt as if I were trapped inside a bad dream with no means of escape, I felt guilt and shame for the way I had abandoned Maelith and I hated Berthedir, Nordir and all their kind with a fierce passion, for I felt they had betrayed all the things we thought had bound us together.

We passed another bitterly cold and uncomfortable night and rose in the morning to find a covering of snow on the ground and more blowing in on the wind. The mood in the camp was sombre, not only because it was likely that we would be fighting again that day, but also because it was clear that many of the men, even those who had taken part in the sack of Greenhow had misgivings about it. I was with my own, checking that everyone’s gear and arms were in order, when I saw Daeron approaching. I realised at once that I had been so preoccupied that I had forgotten his offer and failed to consider it. He saluted and greeted us, and asked me to come away with him for a moment. He looked very tired, and I suspected that he too had spent a troubled night. He came straight to the point and asked me whether I wished to accept the post of Lieutenant, and I did so without further thought, somewhat to my own surprise. “That is good” he said, “but you have stepped over the heads of many other older and more experienced men to take on this duty. Some will wish to see you stumble as a result, and a company is a much bigger and more difficult proposition than a squad. Your first task will be to win the sergeants over, though I think you are popular enough with the men in general”. He took a badge of rank from his scrip and pinned it to my cloak, we clasped hands and then saluted and he congratulated me. “What then of your squad? Have you anyone suitable in mind to take over in your stead? Galunir strikes me as a good man?” I concurred, and replied that he was my choice too, and we went back to speak to the men and tell them what had passed. In normal circumstances I would have been elated, but in my miserable state of mind my promotion felt like just another added and unwelcome complication to deal with. Daeron called the Sergeants and gave them the news, and though some looked surprised, most were generous enough to congratulate me.

Finally the horn sounded and we began to form up, and this time the Northford companies were toward the front of the column, just behind Belegon and Edwenion‘s men. It felt a little strange to be marching alongside Daeron, and also to find myself unencumbered by a spear. We set off from the edge of the forest and regained the road, through the fields still littered with the dead, now dusted with a uniform covering of white. It was as if someone had begun to try and hide them, or make them somehow less dreadful and failed. My stomach churned as we approached the stark ruins of the town, and I wondered whether poor Maelith was still there somewhere. She still had my dagger, and I hoped a little feebly it might prove useful to her. I tried to keep my eyes to the front but I could not fail to notice several bodies at the roadside that were clearly not those of fighting men. They did not escape the attention of some of our men either, and I was secretly heartened to hear a few cries of “murderers” from our ranks directed at those marching ahead of us. Hearing the cries some of them broke ranks for a moment and turned, angry, but the bark of their sergeant brought them quickly back in to line. He came storming towards us, a squat brute of a man, his face like thunder, demanding that we find those who had slighted his men. Daeron said nothing, and I realised that he meant for me to deal with the situation. I suddenly found my new rank had its compensations after all, barking “back in line sergeant” at him and stopping him in his tracks. He opened his mouth to argue but then he noticed my badge and he suddenly thought better of it, spinning on his heels and returning to his own men cursing under his breath. Daeron remained silent, but I was sure I caught the merest hint of a smirk on his face for a moment.

Greenhow was soon behind us, but what happened there will live in infamy so long as there are any left to remember it, and it marked the beginning of the end for the Kingdom. The valley sides closed in once more and the land regained its former steepness. As we marched steadily through the fine blowing snow, eyes stinging in the gusts, every tree lined bend in the road could have been the perfect spot for an ambush. Yet none came and neither we nor our scouts saw any sign of our foe. The column halted several times that day as we came upon villages and farms along the road, and they were wrecked and set ablaze but fortunately those who lived there had fled at the rumour of our approach. Anyone watching from a distance would have been able to mark our progress from the smoke rising high into the wintry sky, and once again there were mutterings and curses from the men marching behind us as we left the scenes of wanton destruction. Many of them had been farmers and villagers, and knew what it meant to be burnt out and lose everything with winter coming.

It was beginning to grow dark when the column halted again. Ahead on the road in a clearing I could see a farmhouse, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw smoke was rising from the chimney. Surely none would have been foolish enough to remain? I heard shouting and the men at the head of the column brought two figures out of the house, and even at that distance I could see that they were old and infirm. My hand fell instinctively onto my sword hilt at the sight, but I made no further movement as Berthedir rode up to them, towering over them on his horse and gave a command. I remained frozen to the spot as the men surrounding the two captives drew their swords and hacked down first one and then the other. My hand gripped the hilt so hard it ached and yet I could still not move or speak or look anyone around me in the eye, so appalled was I at what I had witnessed, and at my inability to act and prevent it. Some of my men were much braver and better than I was though, indeed it was Galunir, who I had not long since elevated to sergeant who piped up first. “Captain, what is happening? We are become a rabble worse than orcs! Enough I say!”. There was a murmur of agreement from the ranks. I remained frozen to the spot, knowing I ought to act but unsure of what to do and feeling suddenly very foolish. Daeron however turned calmly and went back to where Galunir stood surrounded by a crowd of men. “Peace Galunir” he said calmly. “I promise you now that once we return west I will do all that I can to see justice done for all this. But until then anyone who speaks against orders risks their neck, and I promise you I will not risk mine to save yours if you cannot stay your tongue. That goes for all of you. Now get back in line”. He turned away and came back to where I was standing, and the men did as they were bid. He did not look at me, and he appeared calm, but I could see his hand was trembling.

The farmhouse was set alight, and the flock of sheep in the pen nearby slaughtered, and we set up camp in the meadows, lit eerily by the dancing flames. The sheep were roasted, and smelt delicious, but none in Berenion or Daeron’s companies partook of them, and many others also refused when they saw the bodies of the old farmer and his wife lying crumpled at the side of the road. If Berthedir was aware of this silent mark of protest then he did not show it.


	38. Chapter 38

Snow was falling meaningfully the following morning and we hastened to rise and prepare for the next march. High Burgh was little more than half a day’s march distant now, so it was likely that we would see battle again that day. Daeron had been uncharacteristically quiet, and I did not press him to speak, feeling as wretched as I did, but the preparations for the march gave me something to occupy myself with and once again I toured the company making sure all was in order. A few wisps of smoke still rose from the ruins of the farmhouse, but the snow had the upper hand now, and the old farmer and his wife were rapidly becoming little more than snow covered humps, unrecognisable for what they were.

We formed up in the ankle deep snow, hoods pulled up over our helms and cloaks dusted white, and began the final leg of our march on High Burgh. The thickly falling snow obscured the country around us and all I could see of it were nearby trees and boulders looming out of the grey fog. The enemy could have come upon us unseen at any time, and we fully expected them to do so, but once again they made no move. The hours passed and the snow began to deepen, though our path, some way down the column, was well trodden enough by the time we reached it. I was weary in body and mind, and uncomfortable, as one of my boots was leaking and my cloak was soaked through, heavy and cold. The thought of yet another battle filled me with dread and foreboding, the events of the last two days had sapped all my resolve and I did not know how well I would be able to fight feeling as I did, now there was no irrepressible Túon to josh with us and raise our spirits, and I felt a pang of sadness when I thought of him. At least he had died before the massacre took place and had never known of it, and in some ways it was a mercy, for he of all men would not have been able to keep his counsel on such matters.

My gloomy reverie was interrupted by another halt. The snow looked to be easing and I was able to better make out our surroundings. The valley had narrowed right in, and the White River thundered in yet another rapid below us, whilst tall dark pines towered above on the rocky heights which framed the sky. It was a wild place, and felt a long way from comfort or safety. However in reality it was not so different to the Northern Marches, and indeed bordered them if you were able to navigate the complicated fretwork of steep forested gorges that riddled the heart of the great upland. Word came down the line that High Burgh was now reckoned to be only a league distant and that we must be ready. Once again having a task to thrown myself into was a boon to my spirits and I went down the line speaking to the men, seeing that all was in order and encouraging them as best I could. Those who could eat now took a small meal before the march resumed, but I had no appetite this time. By the time the signal came to form up and resume the march the snow had almost stopped and the grey sky was brightening. At least we would now be able to see our foe coming at us, I thought glumly to myself.

The trees thinned, the valley widened again and we after we had crossed a stout wooden bridge over a tributary to the main flood we found ourselves once again in populated country, though the inhabitants were nowhere to be seen. The valley was dotted with farms and a large inn and associated outbuildings stood by the side of the road, built in the local style of timber, cob and thatch. Perhaps my Hillman blood was speaking to me then but I thought the whole snowy scene homely and rather lovely and regretted coming there in hostility. Inevitably another halt was called, Edwenion’s men went quickly to work and fire was soon spreading hungrily through the thatch of the inn’s roof. I groaned inwardly once again at the wanton and pointless destruction and wondered how many weary travellers from Bearcliffe would curse us at the lost of the hostelry when peace returned. Daeron, who had been marching with me the whole time said nothing, and indeed he had not spoken more than a dozen words to me all morning, his natural ebullience had deserted him and he had a haunted look in his eye. We resumed our march, the fierce fire soon at our backs, and it was not long before High Burgh itself came into view around the next bend, horns sounded in the distance as our foe came into view and battle order was sounded. 

High Burgh was a large place, larger than I had expected and at least the equal of Northford. The old town and Great Hall sat elevated above the meeting of two valleys on a jutting shoulder of land, and were ringed by a substantial earthwork and palisade wall. But the town had grown over time and spilled beyond this and down onto the plain where a second and newer defensive barrier encircled it. In front of this the host of the Hillmen stood guard, ready for battle. It was hard to tell given the lack of elevation but the host we now faced appeared much diminished compared to the one we had met two days since, and our numbers were equally matched. Our host spread out into the fields either side of the road but we remained where we were, in the centre once again as ordained by Berthedir. Once again the archers and one of the Lastbridge companies fell in behind us. I assisted Daeron in forming our lines and then we took our places shoulder to shoulder in the front rank. When all was done he gave me a glance that spoke volumes and I nodded my grateful acknowledgement of his wordless but welcome gesture of solidarity.

Berthedir came down the front of his host on his great horse to rally us, telling us that victory was within our grasp and that Aglarion’s murder would be avenged. I could not help noticing that his previously magnificent mount was now ribby and lame, but he paid it no heed. Once he was done a desultory cheer went up from the men and he spurred the horse into a halting trot and took himself off round to the rear. The horn sounded again and we set off in a slow march, holding formation, but as yet our foe had not responded in kind, and stood their ground in silence. The reason soon became clear, for a group standing in front of their main host were holding a white flag of parley aloft. A halt was sounded and cries of “way, way” were heard behind us as Berthedir, still mounted, came through our ranks followed by his two principal captains and a squad of men as a guard. They halted within our earshot and waited for the other party to come forward.

Their leader was sort, strongly muscled and from his appearance I judged him to be around fifty years old. He was clearly a man of high rank from the way the rest of his party deferred to him and from his dress and arms, which were clearly of good quality and well made. He came up in front of Berthedir’s horse and bowed, and spoke to him loudly in a good but heavily accented common tongue. “Hail, Lord of Lastbridge. I, Ulfraer son of Ulfur, Chieftain of the Hill Folk will speak for my people. No more need die today, for I will offer you a bargain. Spare my people and we will lay down our arms and I will hand myself over to you as your prisoner and face the judgement of our King. Swear an oath in front of your men and mine that no more of my people will come to harm and nothing more of theirs will be destroyed and we shall walk side by side into the town and you shall be a guest under my roof this night. What say you?” Berthedir looked nonplussed for a moment, as if he could not take in what he was hearing, but then gathered himself and replied. “We will accept your offer, but be assured that we will reply to any treachery with the full force of our armed might”. With that he leapt from his horse, dropped to his knees and swore in a clear voice that should the Chieftain be true to his word then there would be no further retribution against the person or estate of the Hillmen. As he rose to his feet Ulfraer unbuckled his sword belt, let it fall into the snow and came forward, giving himself up into captivity. At a sign from one of those who had come forward with him the host of the Hillmen began to break and came forward in groups, throwing their weapons onto rapidly growing heaps in front of us and turning back towards the town.

I wondered at the bravery of a man who would give himself up to inevitable death to save his people, and whether any such could still be found in Lastbridge. But Ulfraer was no fool to throw his life away lightly, for he had spared his people further suffering at Berthedir’s hand, and even as we formed up to follow him into High Burgh his son, Ulfred and the best men of their host were fleeing east towards a secret stronghold in the foothills of the Misty Mountains. No orc would trouble them there now.


	39. Chapter 39

So Ulfraer, Chieftain Of the Hillmen and now a prisoner, led Berthedir’s host into the town of High Burgh. The column made its way through narrow streets thronged with onlookers, who watched them pass by in a silence thick with hatred and fear. Berthedir and his Lastbridge companies made their way up into the second circle and the relative comfort of the great hall as the chieftain’s guests. Our companies were not so fortunate, Daeron was given orders to secure and guard the main gate and lower town, so our men halted there and waited whilst I, as the speaker of the local tongue, went into the town with a dozen men to look for a suitable billet. On first impressions the town itself was much to my liking, and although simpler and more rustic than the likes of Northford or Bearcliffe it had an air of vigour and prosperity. Unsurprisingly the people in the streets melted away when they saw us coming, but a few brave souls shouted curses at us before they retreated. A few streets away from the gate near an empty marketplace I found a large building which looked like it would suit our purposes. Nobody answered our knocking on the doors so we broke one and entered. The place was clearly a trader’s or merchant’s hall, for there were piles of fleeces, skins and furs stacked within along with many other barrels and sacks of goods. It smelt terrible, and was gloomy and poorly lit but there would be room enough for us all and it would be good to sleep under a roof again and be warm and dry.

That hall became our home for the next few weeks, and at first it was a relief to take our ease and enjoy the relative comfort it afforded after all the marching and fighting we had done in the open. Daeron knew that this inactivity would soon pall and turn to boredom though, and then to trouble, so he kept the men occupied patrolling and taking turns doing guard duty at the main gate. Feeding us all however was rapidly becoming an issue as the campaign rations were running out. Supplying the additional four and a half thousand soldiers without bringing up supplies would soon present far too much of a burden on a place the size of High Burgh with winter on the way and Berthedir seemed unconcerned about this at first, but a deputation of his captains, including Berenion and Daeron soon changed his mind on the matter. We were already on short rations and going hungry, and would have been hungrier still had some of the goods in the hall not turned out to be edible, mainly salted and dried mutton and some rather good ale. Messengers were sent back to Bearcliffe demanding that supplies be sent up the valley, and it was also resolved that now victory had been secured several companies would be sent back to Lastbridge. They would escort Berthedir and his prisoner to when they departed and would afterwards be stood down and sent home for Yule. It seemed most likely that both the Northford companies would be among them, as they had seen continuous service for eight months. My heart leapt at this news - I would see Lastbridge and Angon again, and perhaps even get to spend another Yule with Daeron’s family.

So it proved, as far as the companies were concerned, but I was not so fortunate. My ability to speak the language of the hill folk had proved to be very useful at the town gate and I was able to help defuse several difficult situations there that might otherwise have ended badly. Word of this had reached Berthedir and he summarily reassigned me to to Belegon’s company. He was to command the new garrison in Berthedir’s absence, and with the departure of Ulfraer it would become necessary to have someone to hand who could converse with the town’s elders who either could not or would not use the common speech in their dealings with us. 

So it was that I found myself face to face for the first time with my new captain, in the pleasant well furnished room that he had taken for his own use. It had a window that faced west, with a fine view of the town and along the vale of the White River, towards the scene of his blackest deeds I thought sourly to myself. Daeron had returned from a council that morning and I had known straight away from his manner that something was amiss, and the news he brought me was bitter indeed. He had done what he could, he said, but Belegon was the sort who enjoyed getting the upper hand over anyone he considered to be a potential rival.  
He was a big man, and from the look of him the blood of the west did run fairly true in his veins, but perhaps it was the prideful cruel sort that had done for our ancestors. He had a fearsome reputation amongst the ranks and where Daeron’s men fought at least in part for the love of their captain, Belegon’s knew only fear of theirs. He was sat at a table looking at some scrolls, with his lieutenant Glordir at his shoulder. The latter shot me a look which spoke volumes as I entered, and I prepared myself for what I knew must follow.

Belegon ignored me at first, and I stood feigning patience, but inside I was already angry, angry at been torn away from men I knew and trusted, from friends, and worse still denied the rest that was my right, trapped in a place I did not want to be. Eventually he deigned to notice me, and cleared his throat. The handsome blonde haired lieutenant by his side allowed himself a smirk. I chose to speak first “Lieutenant Esteldir reporting for duty”. He looked at me critically. “Lieutenant? You’re no more than a boy, how did you come by such a rank? Mind, Daeron is barely whiskered himself, so it should come as no surprise”. He gave a humourless chuckle and his ally joined in. “So you’re the one that speaks pig tongue are you? How did you come by such a useful skill?” I did my best not to show any reaction. “My mother was of the hill folk”. He sat back in his chair and folded his hands across his belly. “So you’re a half pig then? How did you come to be serving in a southern company then? I hope it didn’t stop you doing your duty at Greenhow”. I assured him stiffly that I had done my best, and that Berthedir had commended us, but he ignored me. I felt the old anger rising in me but I was in no doubt how dangerous it would be to lose my temper now. “You will attend to me whenever I need you, and no doubt Berthedir will do so too when he returns. The hours are long and I’ve no doubt you will find it very tedious listening to the pigs squealing all day long, I know I do. Glordir here will show you your new billet, but don’t get any ideas about pulling rank on the men, I only need one lieutenant. Any questions?” I braced myself, knowing that it was futile and foolish and would not end well, but I was so angry and disappointed I could not help but ask why I was not being allowed the leave I was entitled to. His face darkened. “Do not question my orders. This duty will be your leave, you are not expected to fight or bear arms in this task and you will winter in relative comfort in this pigsty. We are at war, and normal rules do not apply”. I thought of several answers to this last comment but wisely kept them to myself.

So began one of the dreariest and most miserable periods of my life, even as a castle rat I had friends around me and felt realtively safe and protected, but now I was alone, friendless and disliked by all. To my dismay I found myself billeted with some of the soldiers who had abducted Maelith, notably the sergeant, a beast of a man who went by the name of Beleg. Once they discovered whose company I had been serving with, and that I was half Hillman the die was truly cast with them. Fear of my rank kept them at bay for the most part but they made no secret of what they thought of me. Not so much the lieutenant though, who took every opportunity to mock and bait me, but for a while I managed to avoid giving him any reason to complain of my conduct. Hard and dangerous as it had been, I greatly missed my old life fighting in the north, with the easy camaraderie of men I knew and trusted doing a duty which had great worth and was within my compass. The elders and townsfolk who came to the hall on business hated and feared me too, for the bearer of unwelcome news and bad tidings will always carry the taint of it, even if it is not his own handiwork and I was Belegon’s mouthpiece.

Daeron and Berenion’s companies left for Lastbridge with Berthedir and his prisoner two days later, and I watched them leave with a troubled heart. Once again I was impressed by the quiet dignity shown by Ulfraer as he was marched from his town for the last time with his hands bound behind him. The streets were lined with people who watched him depart, but this time many cried out in support, or wept, knowing the fate that awaited him at the end of his journey. Many hundreds followed him down the valley, unarmed save for digging implements, for there was still much grim work to be done in the town and on the battlefield at Greenhow. When they arrived there Daeron and Berenion set their own men to helping the Hill folk while they could, but Berthedir would brook any delay to his journey and they marched away the following morning, spirits greatly subdued yet again by what they had seen.

In the streets of Bearcliffe and Lastbridge too, many people came out to witness the Chieftain of the Hillmen pass by on his journey to face the King’s justice. If Berthedir had hoped for a triumphant progress as he returned home then he was disappointed, for by all accounts as many took the part of the prisoner as praised him for his victory.


	40. Chapter 40

So Ulfraer was brought before the King and Court, and a long list of charges were read out against him, among them treason, insurrection and the murder of Aglarion and his garrison. He stood defiantly and acknowledged them all, and then in a clear voice and eyes firmly fixed on Berthedir listed in turn the crimes committed at Greenhow in the King’s name, before he was drowned out by the resulting uproar. When silence fell once again on the hall the King, now obviously frail, stood stiffly, pronounced the expected sentence of death, and commanded that it be carried out without further delay. According to Daeron, who witnessed all, Ulfraer shook off the guards who made to seize him and walked freely to meet his fate out in the great courtyard. A large crowd had been permitted to enter there to witness his execution, and they watched him strip to the waist in the icy air, throw his head back and yell his people’s battlecry, before kneeling quickly to await the axe. It fell without delay and a great groan went up from the assembled throng. They could perhaps sense that that swing carried a greater weight than the ending of a single man’s life.

In High Burgh news was slow to reach us, but when tidings of Ulfraer’s execution finally came up the valley the mood of many of the townspeople turned from fear to anger, and in the streets patrols were attacked and two soldiers killed. Belegon’s response was typically swift and merciless. Several culprits, guilty or not, were seized and executed in the main square. I was forced to stand at his side and read out the proclamations of guilt and sentence of death on the prisoners in the Hill tongue for the benefit of the onlooking crowd. I can still remember the faces of the frightened youths as they were taken to the axe, and their pitiful pleas for mercy before their lives were snuffed out. In my darkest moments I began to wonder if death would be preferable to the life I was being forced to lead now, for I knew I shared a part in what took place there whether I willed it or not.

Belegon’s retribution had the desired effect, for a while at least, and my life in High Burgh returned to its previous miserable pattern. The winter snows had arrived in earnest too, and the road up the valley became blocked for weeks at a time. As we had feared supplies ran low on a regular basis, and we got short rations and went hungry even in the great hall. Food was requisitioned in the town, but there was a limit to what could be obtained, and this caused further bad feeling amongst the people. Yet again I was called upon to be Belegon’s mouthpiece as we turned up in force at the house of yet another poor baker or cheesewright and emptied their storeroom. Men were also went to nearby villages and farms in the hills to see what they could find, and they rarely returned empty handed. Just after Yule the weather eased for a little while and supplies began to get through again. Berthedir also returned from Lastbridge and resumed command of the garrison.  
He did not return in good humour, disappointed by what he saw as an insufficient response from the people and the king to his great victory, and he made sure we knew it.

Things were getting worse with my fellow soldiers too, Beleg and his men saw which way the wind blew with Glordir and I and were becoming openly insolent in my presence. Glordir revelled in this, and one evening when we had sat down on benches in the hall to eat a poor and paltry meal of thin stew in wooden bowls he contrived to knock mine off the table and into my lap, with the customary smirk on his pretty face. The men around us laughed, and I finally snapped, smashing Glordir’s face into his bowl and breaking his nose. He was not as strong or cunning as I, having led the privileged life of a young nobleman at court, and all he dared do in response was order his men to arrest me. Steel was drawn, and I bore none at the time, so fortunately was unable to put up any kind of fight. My hands were pinned behind my back and I was frogmarched to Belegon’s quarters. 

He did not appreciated the disturbance, but when he saw Glordir’s bloody face and me pinioned by his men something approaching delight flickered across his face. He accepted Glordir’s version of events without question and I was taken down to what served as a dungeon there, a dark stinking cellar where I spent a long miserable night in the company of several wretches in far worse predicaments than I. One of them was a young soldier from Bearcliffe who, driven half mad by what he had seen and done at Greenhow had tried to run away. Unfortunately the snow had made it easy to follow and capture him, and now he sat in the dark sobbing and pleading to nobody in particular knowing that he would die in the morning. I attempted to speak to him and soothe him but he was too far gone, and I had to give up. The guards came for him at first light, and he fought and screamed like a mad thing, so they beat him until he became quiet and then dragged him out semi conscious to meet his fate. I had seen countless men face death and die on the battlefield, but this was a singular horror to me, to end in such a cold and brutal manner.

My own appointment with justice came later that day when I was released from my stinking prison and sent to face Berthedir and Belegon. Glordir, with a nose swollen like a potato marring his good looks, Beleg, and some of the other men were in the chamber too. It did not look good for me. “Esteldir of Northford, there is plaint that you struck a fellow officer without provocation, what say you?” intoned Berthedir coldly. I recognised this tone from the night when he had been challenenged by Berenion and Daeron at Greenhow, and knew I was doomed. I stood up straight and looked him in the eye and replied. “That I did, and would gladly again. But not without provocation. It takes many forms, but there are none here who would take my part or speak in my defence on the matter. Serve your justice on me as you will”. He looked slightly surprised at this but continued. “Very well. Your guilt is clear, and you shall be punished. You have shown yourself to be incapable of conduct befitting your rank, which was clearly to granted you in haste and error. Since you came into my service you have shown little inclination or willingness for the duties assigned to you, and I have grave doubts as to where your true loyalties lie. I therefore strip you of all rank and privileges. Some of Tharon’s men march north tomorrow to teach a pig village that dared to defy our foraging parties yesterday a lesson, and I expect to hear that you played your full part in their punishment. If I do not then I fear I will have to conclude that you are indeed a traitor and turncoat and deal with you accordingly. Return him to the dungeon to think further on his folly”.

I was marched back to the dark stinking hole in a much better frame of mind than any of my tormentors could have imagined, for a while at least until the doubts came crowding back to gnaw at me. I would be free of Belegon and my miserable existence in the Great Hall, and it would be good to put my gear back on and return to the life I knew best, the hard but simple existence of the foot soldier. But I knew not what manner of man this Tharon was, or whether I would be able to prove my ‘loyalty’ sufficiently to save my neck. At least there was the outside chance of a quick clean death in the wild, something I found surprisingly attractive at that particular moment in time. My prison was much quieter without the poor wretch who had been executed that morning, and after a while I slept surprisingly well, so much so that the guards had to wake me with a kick to the ribs. I followed them stiffly out to an ante room where my gear had been brought down and left for me, noting that my pack had been rifled and several useful items removed. However I cared little about this and was glad to put my tunic, breastplate, cloak and sword belt back on again. I swung my pack and shield over my shoulder and followed my erstwhile captors to the entrance of the hall and out into a courtyard where men were gathering. The sun shone down on the scene from a deep blue sky, painting everything a dazzling white, and it was still bitterly cold. The guard led me to a group of soldiers who were stood deep in discussion. They parted as he approached and I found myself in front of a captain, who I took to be Tharon. He was surprisingly aged in appearance, with a heavily wrinkled face and large bags under his eyes which gave him a rather hangdog expression. I guessed he must have been close to the end of his service, for in that time men were not expected to fight past their sixtieth year. “Another one for me have you?” he asked the guard, who saluted. “What did you do then?” It was clear that I was not the first wrongdoer to be sent to his company. “Esteldir of Northford reporting for duty” I replied in the expected fashion. “Reduced to the ranks for striking a fellow officer”. He looked bored “You must have hit him hard then. Good. One for you Sergeant Bardir”. He turned away apparently bored and paid me no further attention. I decided I rather liked him. A tough grizzled looking man with a scarred face and missing teeth gestured to me to follow him, he spoke little and I made no effort to strike up a conversation with him either. I joined my new squad, mostly men from Lastbridge and the surrounding area without ceremony and after receiving my rations and a cursory inspection which fell way below any standard I would have expected myself we formed up and marched down through the snow covered streets of the town. After passing out through the lower gate we turned right to cross the river via a stout timber bridge and hugged the north bank of the White River along a well beaten track through the snow. For a while it was actually rather pleasant and I quite enjoyed the novelty of being out in the countryside and on the march again, listening to the steady crunch of boots on the snow, the creak of leather and watching our breaths steaming in the sunshine.


	41. Chapter 41

Our destination was a small town at the confluence of the northern and southern branches of the White River, called Deepvale, some five hours march away. Two days before, a foraging party had found their road blocked there by a large crowd, which greatly outnumbered them and was armed with whatever the people had been able to put to hand, making it very clear that they were ready to defend their winter stores. The sergeant in charge of the foragers had wisely withdrawn his men, but news of what had happened was met with fury back in High Burgh, and Tharon’s company had been sent out with orders to bring the place under control and attempt to round up and return with any ringleaders that could be found. 

We passed through several villages on the way, but saw few if any people, they must have either fled or hidden themselves in their homes when they saw us approaching and I suspected that they had already been given good reason to fear and resent us. They were the homes of simple poor folk, and anything they had managed to put by would have been hard won and barely enough. Once again I found myself liking the look of the places we passed through, though humble they were well arranged and in good repair. The land was growing steeper yet around us, and as the valley narrowed we often found ourselves in the icy shade cast by tall cliffs and forested heights, and the march began to lose some of its initial attraction. Many valleys and short ravines branched off it to either hand, all jagged and equally steep. It was easy to see why no true roads had been made in this country, nor probably ever would be. It was a chaotic landscape, where progress in any direction other than that dictated by the course of a river was difficult, and it was very easy to lose your sense of direction and become lost. If my memory served me correctly we were probably no further than ten leagues or so from Northford as the crow flew, but it would not be a journey to be lightly undertaken, even for someone such as I who had often been in the forests on the northern edge of the upland.

At mid day we halted for a meal, which was eaten in a taciturn silence. I strongly suspected that my new fellows were wishing just as hard as I was that they could have been anywhere other than where they found themselves. Any pleasure I had found in escaping from my confinement in the great hall and marching in the wild was gone now, and been replaced by a nagging dread of what might lay ahead. In little more than an hour I might have to try and prove my loyalty, and I did not think I could. The alternative was desertion, and that would mean certain death if I returned to any land where the king’s writ ran. The thought of never seeing Northford, Daeron or Angon again was too painful to consider, as was the idea that I could ever break my vows of service and dishonour the memory of my father and uncle and the stain name of my family. And who in the Shaws would give refuge and succour to someone who had been at the battle of Greenhow, however innocent of the massacre they claimed to be? The only other possible choice, a journey to Cardolan or Arthedain would be far too long and perilous, and the welcome to be found there too uncertain to risk. I felt very tired, and sad, and decided that I could not do what Berthedir wanted, and if that meant I would face death then so be it. After all, what was I? The last of a line who few now remembered, beggared by fate and forced to serve cruel men.

Whisps of smoke rising straight into the clear sky from the fires of Deepvale town could be glimpsed through the treetops and between the cliffs, but as yet there was no sign of the townsfolk or their barricade. We marched along a well trodden trail through the snow, and some way ahead it was clear from the light that the trees thinned and halted and gave way to open meadow. A horn sounded abruptly somewhere off to our left and uphill, and it was answered by another further off. We had been seen and the signal for whatever welcome was prepared for us had been given. For the moment no orders came down the line and we continued to march at the same pace, unconcerned. I had been fighting for too long in forests however, because I sensed that something was amiss, and then caught a glint of sun on steel from up the valley side. There were men there, very many of them and they were definitely not rustics armed with hay forks. “Ware!!” I shouted, and drew my sword, and my squad halted and did the same, causing disorder in the line behind us. Bardir, who was a canny old fox had spotted them too and nodded to me. Then there was an all too familiar thump and the man who had been standing between us crumpled with an arrow buried deep in his chest. The air was suddenly thick with them, and they fell on us from both sides. Men were suddenly dying all the way along our line and we had no means of reply, and no way to evade them. Bardir had the presence of mind to yell an order to charge the foe who stood uphill from us, and I could see what he purposed, for there was a cleft in the heights above us that might provide a means of escape if we could reach it. Ahead and behind us on the trail more Hillmen were advancing, and we were clearly outnumbered. I remembered surprise at how depleted in numbers the army we had faced outside High Burgh had seemed, and now perhaps I had an explanation, for I had no doubt that we faced Ulfred’s men there. The sounds of battle and the screams of the dying filled the air, and as we charged uphill through the trees to meet our unseen foe many fell around us, their blood stark red against the brilliant white of the snow. By the time we met our foe hand to hand more than half our number had fallen, but we had good fortune, and despite being encumbered and very short of breath found our enemy spread thinly and were able to kill them and reach the top of the ridge and our hoped for means of escape. I was too hasty however as we scrambled over snow covered boulders at the crest, and gave no thought to the fact that the far side might be steeper and more dangerous than the one we had just climbed. I realised my mistake too late, and could not recover my slip before I found myself falling through space and feeling vaguely foolish and regretful. The rocks and trees below came rushing up to meet me with surprising speed and then I knew no more.


	42. Chapter 42

I became vaguely aware of a light shining, and I felt colder than I had ever done in my life. I began to tremble uncontrollably and gradually regained my senses. My head was wet and I was tangled in my cloak, which had become stiff with frost. The light that shone in my eyes resolved itself into moonlight on snow and it dawned on me that I was still alive, lying at the bottom of a steep slope amongst snow covered pine trees. I knew that unless I could still move then I would die there, so I tentatively tested each of my limbs in turn to see if they still responded normally. To my amazement it appeared that they did, so I slowly drew myself up into a sitting position. My head was pounding and I felt sick and dizzy but I managed to get myself upright. The wet on my face turned out to be blood, and there was no sign of my helm, I could only assume that it had been knocked off on the way down and had perhaps saved me from a worse fate. There was however a large crimson stain on the snow where I had been lying, so it was clear I had still done myself quite a mischief. After a while my head cleared a little, though my shivering continued unabated, and I tried standing and taking a few steps which I managed without falling over. Feeling encouraged I tried to take stock of the scene around me, which was brightly lit by a full moon and full of deep shadows. Above were the steep crags I had fallen from, and I when I saw them from below I marvelled that I had lived to tell the tale. To my left hand as I faced them there seemed to be a weakness that might be a way up or down, for the trees were thicker there. If Bardir had made it down as well then he would have come that way, and perhaps I would be able to pick up his trail and find him. I rallied a little at this thought and set off through the trees, the movement warmed me and my shivering subsided.

Eventually I reached the bottom of the tree covered ramp and to my delight found the snow trampled by numerous sets of boot prints, which disappeared behind me into the trees. I felt inordinately pleased at my good sense and set off in pursuit, easily reading the trail even in the shadows. I followed it for what felt like several hours until I started to tire and the eastern sky began to grow pale with the first hint of day. As the light improved I noticed that some of the boot prints were heading the wrong way, which troubled me, for I could not understand why any of my fellows would have halted and retraced their steps, unless they had found their way barred or some danger in their path. The idea that I might have missed them somehow in the night and that even now they might be heading away from me in a completely different direction was deeply troubling, but I reasoned that even if I had missed the point in the trail where they had branched out in a different direction in the gloom under some tree or other, then at least I would be no further behind them than I had been when I had set off. The fact that they had met something that had caused them to turn tail worried me though, for I had lost my sword and had nothing but the small dagger in my belt to defend myself with. I was also becoming desperately hungry, my head still ached and I felt increasingly weak and helpless, but I forced myself to go on just a little further.

It was almost day when I found Bardir and the others. I had been following the trail along the bottom of the valley, when the trees thinned and suddenly the tracks fanned out in many directions. Ahead of me, under a great snow laden pine I saw what I took at first to be a boulder or large root, but as I approached it I realised it was a man, laid face down in the snow. I knew him at once as a tall gangling fellow with prominent teeth, who had raced up the hillside like a deer with apparently little effort when we attempted to spring the Hillmen’s trap. I never learned his name, and I never would now, for an arrow, buried almost up to the fletchings, was stood up in his back. Beyond, in a clearing, were other bodies. There had obviously been a pursuit, and it had ended here in a fight, that none had survived. I found Bardir, laid on his back, eyes staring blanky into the sky, a great red stain in the snow below a rent in his surcoat. The snow all around him had been well trampled, and there were other patches of crimson that indicated that he had not gone quietly and probably taken some of his assailants with him to the halls of Mandos. I knelt and closed his eyes, and began rather foolishly to weep, for I knew now that I was completely alone and lost in a wild land, and I did not know what to do.

I sat there for a while, too tired to move, until the first rays of morning topped the wooded heights to the east and I felt the faint kiss of the sun. Yet again the sky was a flawless blue, and it was hard not to find some beauty in the dazzling white of the scene around me and the profound silence. I rallied a little, and tried to decide what to do next, though my pounding head made this a difficult task. I faced a choice, either to strike out for Northford, with no supplies, and no clear idea of the way in incredibly difficult country. Or to try and regain High Burgh, for surely I could not be accused of any failure of duty after what had happened. Perhaps a relief force was already on its way, and I could meet up with them, or there might be others who had survived the battle? My first priority however was food, for I was now weak with hunger and my strength for any march questionable. Grim as it was, my first task would have to be to search my dead comrades for any scraps they might have been carrying in their scrips, and my search soon bore fruit, the tall man had obviously been unable to finish his lunch, and had put the remainder by. I consumed the hard bread and dried meat hungrily, and thought that I had rarely taste anything so good. I recovered some more pieces of bread and biscuit, and also found the fresh graves of three Hillmen under the trees. I wondered that I had not come across the rest of them during my pursuit, but then realised that I must have been out of my senses for quite some considerable length of time.

Somewhat restored, and with my thirst slaked by a little snow I resolved to take what I thought would be the safest, most honourable and blameless course and attempt to return to High Burgh. I armed myself with a discarded sword and set off back along the trail through the snow. I made much better time in daylight, and by noon I had made the bottom of the tree clad ramp that bisected the steep crags that separated the vale I found myself in from that of the White River. I ate a little more bread and started to climb, and as I rose above the vale marvelled that I had not suffered worse injury from my fall, for it looked higher still viewed from above. I eventually made the ridge and stopped for a rest, and took a moment to admire the view, which was nothing less than splendid. To the east the high snow clad tops of the misty mountains stood close by, as close as I had ever seen them even when we had travelled as far up the Hoarwell as the old tower. All around me rank upon rank of craggy pine clad ridges marched into the distance, and far to the north loomed the high land of the Ettenmoors and beyond a glimpse of the distant Trollfangs. I bestirred myself and crawled cautiously through the rocks I had tumbled off until I was able to look down into the vale. The woods below the crest were empty, and there was no sign of the foe we had slain there. A short distance off lay the town of Deepcliff, looking tranquil in the sunshine, smoke rising from the fires in many hearths. Once I was certain I was not observed I moved as quickly and quietly as I could down from my lofty perch until I was safely under the cover of the trees, and moving cautiously from trunk to trunk I gradually worked my way down towards the track where the fight had taken place. Already I was passing red surcoated corpses feathered with arrows amongst the trees, and as I approach the track that led to the village it became like a scene from a charnel house. Our dead lay thick on the ground, shot by arrows or hewn by axe and sword, and I wondered how any could have escaped the slaughter, so complete did it seem. My reverie almost cost me dearly, for I only heard the Hillmen coming in the nick of time, and dropped to the floor, laying crumpled against the tree trunk, hoping to be taken for just another corpse. I hardly dared breathe as passed close by, chattering amongst themselves about the fight and what would happen next. One of them opined that they would be waiting for the search party from High Burgh and that there would be more sport ere the week was out. I waited for a long time after they were gone before I even dared to raise my hood and look around me, and once I was sure I was not observed I made my way back the way I had come, resolving to wait for dark before I made any further attempt to go down river.

I found a reasonable hiding place between two large moss covered boulders, and made myself as comfortable as I could, sleeping a little on and off. Eventually the light began to turn rosy and I knew it would soon be time to set off again, so I ate what remained of my stolen rations and waited for night to fall.


	43. Chapter 43

Once the sun had set and the first stars were lighting in the inky blue black overhead I left my hiding place and cautiously made my way downhill through the snowy forest towards the track and the river. I trod as lightly as I could, but my boots crunched loudly with every step on the night frosted snow, or so it seemed to me. I feared the noise would betray me, so went slowly and cautiously, straining to hear any corresponding footsteps of a sentry or hunter, but for a while nothing else disturbed the silence. Then distant voices began to reach my ears, and I became aware of an orange flicker that played amongst the tree trunks ahead as I drew closer to the river. Somewhere not far away the Hillmen had made a camp and lit several large fires, on which meat was roasting. The scent of it was a torment to me, and I soon realised that the resulting illumination might make it difficult for me to approach and pass them, as the valley narrowed and steepened close to. I approached as near to them as I dared, and even at that distance I could see that there would be little hope of passing by unseen, even with the sentries distracted and paying little attention.

I sat for a little while in an agony of indecision, and then reluctantly began to retrace my steps, heading back up the hillside amongst the dead towards the shoulder which led into the next valley. Among the snow rimed rocks at the top I paused and caught my breath at the beauty of the moonlit landscape stretching out and away in all directions. My eye was drawn north, towards the familiar shadowy bulk of the Ettenmoors. I knew that somewhere below those heights at this very moment another hearty fire would be burning in the hearth of the Great Hall of the Keep in Northford, and I would have given anything at that moment to be standing in front of it with a flagon of ale in hand and in the company of my own. Ten leagues… in normal country that would be no more than two days easy march. With a little good fortune finding my way through the maze of valleys I could perhaps make it in three, for once I reached the point where the streams and rivers began to drain northward instead of west it would simply be a matter of following the water down to the Hoarwell. I knew many of those vales already, and although there was a danger that I might meet an orc band up there even this early in the year, they might equally be friends that I encountered. The other road seemed suddenly much more hazardous now I had been forced to turn back. At first I had planned to try and follow the second valley for a while and skirt the camp of the Hill men, but I had no idea if they communicated further down, whether a way could be found between the two if not, and whether that valley too was inhabited in its lower reaches. For to be caught anywhere on that journey would mean certain death, the anger and hatred of the people in the villages we had passed through that had been picked clean by previous foraging patrols was plain to see. And at that journey’s end I would be throwing myself once more on the mercy of Berthedir and Belegon - that final thought was enough to make my mind up for me. I allowed myself a small meal of stale bread from my meagre stores and gathering up my courage crawled past the yawning gulf I had previously tumbled into and started to clamber cautiously down the steep tree clad ramp.

At first the journey went well, the moon lit my way sufficiently and the going was not difficult. I headed up the valley which I judged would take me in more or less the right direction until I found my way blocked by a steep scree slope framed by more tall cliffs. It looked like it might be climbable but I decided to wait for daylight, as clouds had begun to blow across the moon and I kept finding myself temporarily immersed in complete darkness. So I made myself as comfortable as possible and dozed fitfully for a few hours with cold and hunger gnawing at me. 

Dawn brought a stiffening breeze and the blue skies of the previous days had given way to a grey overcast. I roused myself wearily, allowed myself another small piece of bread, and set off up the snow covered rocks. It took me much longer than I expected, and I was very tired when I finally reached the top. Beyond lay another vale much like the one I had just left, and it swung off to the east so I would soon need to try and find another weakness and cross into the one beyond. The cloud had dropped onto the Ettenmoors and obscured the mountains, so I had only a general idea of which direction to head in now. Up on the ridge the wind was bitterly cold and tugged at my cloak, so I did not tarry there, and soon found my way down and into the relative shelter of the trees, but already doubts were growing in my mind as to the wisdom of my choice. The next climb was exhausting, and it was well past midday before I topped the ridge and collapsed wearily under a gnarled pine that clung desperately to the rocks there. If anything the sky was growing darker and the cloud dropping, the Ettenmoors were no longer visible and this meant I no longer had any clear idea of the direction I was taking. I knew that all I could do was to keep sighting onto something recognisable and try and maintain my heading that way. I ate the last of my bread and set off again, having to stay on the ridge for a while until I could start to descend. I was aiming for a particular piece of cliff with a cluster of trees part way up half a league or so away. The valley I was now entering disappeared round a shoulder beyond it, with any luck it would keep going the way I wanted and I would be spared another climb and descent that day for my strength was beginning to desert me, and I knew it. Even the relatively easy marches along through the forest were becoming taxing, and I frequently had to stop. My head began to pound again and I felt sick and dizzy.

I glimpsed what looked like my next target through breaks in the treetops every now and again but I was making painfully slow progress. I topped out on a hillock which would give me a better view only to find everything in the distance had been obscured by a grey veil. I did not comprehend what was happening for a moment, but then the air around me was suddenly thick with heavy snowflakes and the grey veil closed in around me too, blotting out all but the closest details of my surroundings. I pulled up my hood and sank to my knees, stifling a sob, and cursed my ill fortune. I had spent enough time in the wild to learn the ways of the weather well and I knew that this was no passing shower, heavy falls would not be uncommon in this land even late on in the season. I would be robbed of my ability to judge direction and find my way, and with every hour that passed it would become more and more difficult to make any headway. I realised with a cold stab of certainty that I was probably going to die as a result, and it seemed wrong and unfair to me after everything else I had lived through. Wretched and weary as I was I decided to keep going a little longer, and I yelled my defiance to the snow and empty woods for all the good it did. I loosened my sword belt and cast it aside, for it was no more than an encumbrance now.

The next few hours are hazy in my memory, my entire world became composed of nothing more than endless snow and pine trees, but I know that I began to stumble and fall with increasing regularity in the ever deepening snow and it took me longer and longer to get up each time. The final time I crested the top of a bank, lost my footing and slid to the bottom on my face. I no longer had the strength to move, and felt curiously peaceful. I just wanted to fall asleep and leave all my cares and pain behind, and as my mind began to drift I thought I could hear a dog barking, which was curious but of no great moment.


	44. Chapter 44

I was warm and peaceful and everything was hazy, and best of all my mother was there. I let myself cry like a baby for the first time in many years when I saw her, and felt all my cares lifted from me. Everything would be well now, I was blissfully happy and drifted off into a deep and restful sleep. If this was death then we were wrong to fear it so.

The next thing I was aware of were voices in the dark, hushed but obviously agitated, a man and a woman speaking in the Hill tongue. “He should have been left where he was, it would have been a mercy and doubtless no more than he deserves. He must be one of the red bears that Ulfred caught outside Deepvale, this one must have got away, not many did by all accounts”. The male voice was agitated and angry “We must turn him over to Garrad and let the Thain deal with him. Curse this snowstorm”. The woman’s voice was warm and soft and had an achingly familiar lilt. “Peace my son” she said calmly. “You are right, but he offers us no harm as he is and bore no weapons when we found him. There is something unusual about him too, he speaks our tongue and well, and cried out to his mother so”. The voice of an old man cut in “It is our way to offer succour to those lost in the wild who come to our door and always has been, if they offer us no harm, remember that boy. This one shall remain our guest until he is strong enough to account for himself and his deeds”. This clearly concluded the conversation, for the next thing I heard were footsteps coming my way, and then a door handle clunked and the room was filled with light from a lantern which dazzled me for a moment.

I very quickly realised that I was not dead, but laid in a warm cot in a snug room with whitewashed cob walls, a low dark beamed ceiling and a small shuttered window. In the doorway, holding the lantern was a handsome woman of about forty in the traditional country dress of the Hill folk, and though it was easy to mistake such things in poor light and weak wits her resemblance to my mother made me start. She looked upon me with the same dark eyes and spoke kindly when she saw I had awoken. “ You have returned to us. That is good. There is a pot of broth on the fire if you would like a little?” I nodded, and croaked a thank you to her in her own tongue. She returned, set the candle down on a small table and sat on a stool by the cot with the wooden bowl of broth and a spoon in her hands. I found I was too weak to sit up and take the bowl myself, so she helped me up a little and began to feed me spoon by spoon. It seemed the most delicious thing I had ever tasted, but she would not let me have much, and afterwards I sank back into the bedding and quickly began to drift back to sleep. Before she left she asked me my name, and told me hers was Haelwen and smiling at me a little sadly, rose to her feet and left with the candle, closing the door quietly behind her.

She returned in the morning with a bowl of gruel, and then helped me in a matter of fact way to get out of bed and use the pot. I apologised for my pathetic weakness, but she laughed and told me she was a mother and a farmer’s wife and such things were of no consequence to her. I realised that I had been washed and my head wound cleaned and salved whilst I lay insensible, and I felt at once mortified and deeply grateful to this kind hearted and practical woman who had taken me into her home and saved my life. Afterwards she helped me back into my cot and after a while I fell asleep again. It was mid afternoon when I woke and the grey light that filtered through the shutter in the room was beginning to fade. I could hear activity beyond my door, and the odd burst of discussion between the woman and the old man. Eventually the door opened softly and she looked in on me, saw I was awake, and asked me if I would like something to eat and drink, which I very much did. I felt refreshed, and hungry, and found some of my strength had returned. I sat up, and then carefully got to my feet, clad in a borrowed undershift, and found myself a little unsteady, but able to stand nonetheless, holding onto the bedpost to steady myself. She returned, smiled when she saw me on my feet, and asked me if I would like to come through into the main room and sit by the fire. She picked up a blanket from the cot and put her arm around me to steady me and I leaned on her in turn and we walked slowly through into the main room. She felt soft and strong under me, and the warm salty smell of her close to stirred feelings that I had almost forgotten.

The room was cluttered and comfortable, with a large hearth in which a good fire blazed under an iron pot, and the broth heating in it smelt wonderful. On one wall was a kitchen range, and in the centre of the room stood a big wooden table surrounded by stout wooden chairs. Both of the owners of the other voices I had heard were present. An old man with a white beard and rheumy eyes was sat by the fire, clutching a walking stick in his hands, whilst a young man of my own age was at the table with a clay pot of beer in front of him. He was well built with ruddy cheeks and a short beard and curly hair, which unusually for a Hillman was yellow. A couple of large dogs lay at his feet, and he silenced their growls with a sharp command when I appeared, but continued to stare at me with a look that was equal parts hostile and curious. The woman pulled out another chair from the table and sat me down on the other side of the fire. “There you are” she said “supper will not be long. Take your ease for a moment and warm yourself. This is my father Aelfwine and my son Aelred. Will you share your tale with us?” “Aye” cut in the old man sharply in a voice whose authority belied his frailty. “We have heard many terrible tales of what you and your kind have done in our land and guest or no, as a stranger here you will soon have to stand before our Thain and hear his judgement, so what say you?” The younger man nodded and resumed his staring, and I wondered with a pang how many of his like I had killed on the battlefield. The tables were turned now, and I felt greatly discomfited by my current enfeebled state.

I sat for a moment letting the heat of the fire soak into me whilst the woman set about preparing the table and attending to various small tasks, a sight that put me in mind of my own mother in our kitchen at home when I was young. Then I cleared my throat and began to speak. “My name is Esteldir of Northford. My company was attacked and worsted at Deepvale several days since, and I became separated from the rest of my men and escaped with my life. The road back to High Burgh seemed too perilous, and I had no wish to return there in any case, so I decided to strike out for Northford instead and would have perished in the snow if you had not found me”. The old man gave a dry chuckle. “ I fear you were on the wrong road for Northford, and not the first to lose their way in these hills. I know the place well, and went there many times in my younger days. How come you to speak our tongue so well? It is unusual for a Westerman to have such good command of it”. “I am only half a Westerman” I replied, “my mother was from these parts”. I continued quietly “She is dead these nine years, but before I awoke yesterday I saw her again, and there is not a day passes that I do not think of her, or wish to be revenged upon the man who caused her death, and if fate allows I shall be”. I noticed a curious look on the woman’s face, but it was the old man who spoke again. “It was nine years ago that I was last in Northford, my eldest daughter was never one to have settled down to life in the vales and went there to seek her fortune. She too wed a westerman soldier, and had a child, but she was left a widow soon after, and later perished in a fire. When news reached us of what had happened my poor wife Derwyne urged me to go there and bring back the orphan child, for it was said that he had survived. I learned that he had been taken in at the Keep, but when I enquired there they denied all knowledge of him and sent me away empty handed”.

The hairs were stood up on the back of my neck, and I could barely take in the implications of what I had heard for all of this was too much coincidence. The woman must have shared my growing suspicions for she was next to speak, in a voice thick with emotion. “What was your mother’s name?” she asked. I got shakily to my feet, tears welling in my eyes for I was certain now. “Her name was Faelneth, and she was as like to you as only a sister could be”. She gave a small cry and dropped the clay bowl she had been holding onto the table with a crash, came quickly round the table and took me in a tearful embrace.


	45. Chapter 45

Even all these years later, I still find it hard to come to terms with the extraordinary twist of fate that had brought me to the heart of my mother’s family. Or that Angon’s pride and disdain for the Hillmen had condemned me to the cold hard life of a castle rat when I could have grown up amongst my own, loved and cherished. Despite everything he had done for me, and the love I had borne him I could not help but feel rage at what he had denied me, and no longer wished to have anything to do with him. He could only have made his offer of fatherhood the last time we met out of guilt and selfish need.

My aunt held me for what were for me a few blissfully happy moments, for I belonged to somebody again and even as a grown man it felt wonderful. I had known there was something special about her and now I remembered my mother talking about the quiet gentle sister she had left behind, and the handsome farmer‘s son who had wooed her and won her heart. Then she drew away from me and wiped a tear off my cheek with her finger and led me over to the old man by the fire. “Faelneth’s boy?” he said, “how can this be? Come close so I can see you” His voice was querulous now. I knelt down and he came close and touched me with a gnarled hand that had seen much hard labour. “Yes, yes” he smiled. “I see her in you, yes. How can this be? You have come back to us”. He leaned forward to embrace me in turn, and I remember being filled with many emotions, but most of all a slightly foolish joy that I had a grandfather again.

Aelred sat at the table, a look of shock and confusion on his face, his fists clenched on the table. “Aelred, will you not greet your cousin?” asked the old man. “For it is Faelneth’s boy without a doubt”. Aelred gathered his wits and replied stiffly. “Cousin he may be, but he has marched with the army that has murdered and stolen its way across our land, killed our chieftain and now rules in High Burgh without pity or mercy. Let him account for his part in all of it before I will call him kin”. I left my grandfather’s side, and suddenly deflated sat back down wearily in my chair with all eyes in the room fixed on me. “I will not gainsay you, for I have seen many terrible things since we marched from Bearcliffe at the end of last year which will haunt me until my dying day. But I swear that I whilst I fought in the battle at Greenhow, I took no part in what followed. Our companies were ordered to hold the field rather than join the assault on the town, and at no time since have I harmed any save in battle. Yet I am not innocent, for I have stood by and done nothing while others did terrible deeds, for I knew that to do otherwise would have meant my own death, and I did not have the strength or courage to face it. For when a man is under arms, to refuse or deny an order is treason, and punishable by the axe”. The old man stirred. “It is so. I have been a soldier too in my time, and to refuse or challenge an order is a grave matter, more so in time of war”. I waited, but he did not continue, sitting in agitated silence, perhaps lost in some painful memory, so after a while I went on. “So I have lived without honour and in despair, hating my weakness with no means of escape being bound to my service, and my death in the snow would have been a mercy. Aelred, I do not expect forgiveness from you, for I save none for myself, but at least try to understand the terrible bind I found myself in. It may well be that your Thain will have my head anyway, for it is little more than I deserve, but my end will be eased now having known you, my family, for a short while at least”. Silence fell, interrupted by the pop of a log on the fire and as I sat with my head bowed I felt a soft hand close on my shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

Aelred said nothing, and kept his own counsel during the meal of broth and hard bread that followed, but his apparent hostility had been replaced with a thoughtful expression as he listened to his mother’s gentle questioning regarding her sister, the life she had led in Northford and my childhood there. My grandfather also asked questions or indicated his agreement or approval as I spoke with her, and thinking about her brought many memories back that I was able to share with them. Eventually with the fire burning low and my strength beginning to ebb Haelwen rose from her chair and declared that it was time for her father and I to take our rest. As she helped me up from my chair Aelred rose and came over, brushing her aside and taking my arm himself helped me from the room, his great hounds following expectantly. “I am only a simple farmer” he said “and I cannot know what terrible things you must have endured, but you do not seem a bad man to me. I will call you cousin”. Haelwen smiled brightly at this and the old man nodded his approval, and I bid them both good night and returned to my room where I lay awake for a short while full of childish happiness before a deep and restful sleep took me.

Over the next few days my strength began to return, and I spent much of my time in the main room by the fire, speaking with my family and learning more of them. Here in the Northern Shaws life had continued relatively undisturbed by the tides of the world up until now. They were farmers and hunters, living as their forefathers had done for long ages in scattered villages and hamlets, and though they were generally poor they rarely went short of anything. Families, especially larger ones, often sent a son or daughter or two to High Burgh or one of the towns in the Hoarwell Valley to earn a living in the army or in service, and ours had been no exception in that respect. Their farm was the furthermost up the vale where it lay, and others were scattered along its length, a pleasing patchwork of occasional meadows and cultivated plots surrounded by forest through which a lively stream ran. About a league upstream of the farm the vale forked, and it was the other branch which would have taken me on the road I sought. In a twist of good fortune I had missed it as I wandered blindly in the snow, and the main course of the vale had taken me gradually back round to the south. The farm itself was built in the traditional style and was of great age, a low rectangular building of cob and thatch, with small shuttered windows inset in walls of great thickness. Somewhat less than half of the building housed the family, the rest was given over to a byre and hayloft to house and feed their livestock. The whole was set in a very pleasing position above the torrent and surrounded by forest and crag, and I thought with a pang what a wonderful place it would have been to grow up.

My grandfather Aelfwine had originally been one of those who had left the vale, and was a soldier in the service of the Chieftain for a while, during which time he travelled widely in Rhudaur, and fought in one of the long forgotten campaigns against Cardolan. But his father had begun to ail at a relatively young age and he was allowed to return to take over the running of the farm. When Haelwen’s husband died as the result of an accident there were no other close male relations in a position to replace him so Aelred, though still young in the reckoning of the Hillmen replaced him. By their lore and custom this exempted him from all service under arms, so whilst other young men of his age in the vale had marched off to High Burgh to support the uprising he had been obliged to remain where he was, much to his chagrin. I did what I could, as I suspected his grandfather had already done to disabuse him of any illusions he had harboured about the reality of life as a soldier. I did however promise to teach him some swordplay when I was better if the opportunity arose. I did not know if it would, for they had resolved to keep my presence a secret from the Thain and so I was kept hidden from the sight of passers by and had to be ushered quickly away back to my room when visitors called, which was fortunately not very often. 

I wanted nothing more than to remain with them, for I would no longer be missed in High Burgh and it would simply be assumed that I had perished with the rest of Tharon’s company at Deepvale, and it was an opportunity to begin afresh. However many difficulties lay in the way of such a scheme, for even with a full beard and the right clothes I would never pass for a Hillman, and many awkward questions would inevitably be asked about who I was and where I had come from. Even if we were somehow able to overcome that hurdle there would inevitably be worse, for without a tie to the land I would be expected to answer any call to arms, and might find myself facing my old comrades, even Daeron himself, and I balked at that thought. I was no traitor, and the thought of reneging on my vows of service and dishonouring the memory of my father and my other grandfather was another I could not stomach. My time with my family became increasingly bittersweet, for we all knew that once the tardy spring drove the snows sufficiently to reopen the way northward I would have to leave. This became inevitable once news reached us that a large force had come out of High Burgh and sacked the town of Deepvale in revenge for what had happened there. Although there was little loss of life on this occasion there was now no chance of my presence being met with anything other than great hostility by the Thain and his men, and indeed it now put my family in grave danger.

So it was that I left them late one evening and began to retrace my steps under the light of a full moon, carrying a well provisioned satchel and back in my army gear. The parting was bitter indeed, and though we said many words to comfort each other about my returning there in better times we all knew that they were spoken far more in hope than in expectation, especially where old Aelfwine was concerned. Many tears were shed, and it still pains me deeply to think of it to this day. I do not know what became of them and their farm, but I hope they did not suffer overmuch in the years that followed, and I will always be grateful and honoured that I knew them even if it was only for a short time.


	46. Chapter 46

I walked all night until the moon began to drop behind the hills and my road became too uncertain to continue safely, and then settled down under the trees to wait for day. Few if any lived in the lands I was travelling through now, but there was always the risk I might cross paths with a party of hunters and further north there might be orcs to contend with too, so I would have to be on my guard. I had been well briefed by Aelfwine regarding the route back to Northford, which would take me about two days, and I had carefully memorised it. In the event I did not have any difficulty identifying the landmarks he had described to me and finding my way back to Hoarwell Vale. The land all around was still brown and snow flattened and the leafed trees were bare, and every now and again I would reach a crest and see the looming bulk of the Ettenmoors to the north and the mountains beyond them still clothed in white. The weather was dull and dreary but a mild wind blew from the south and the music of water was everywhere, and though I was filled with uncertainty about the welcome I might find in Northford my spirits inevitably rose a little at the thought of returning home. 

They rose further when I realised that I was now crossing country I had previously patrolled through, and I picked up my pace. The waters that rushed down below me in this valley emptied into the Hoarwell, all I had to do was follow them and with any luck I would reach Northford sometime after noon. I was soon passing through thickets where trees had been cleared for firewood and knew I must be close to the old road , but before I reached it I heard voices and halted, straining to hear what tongue they spoke in and how many of them there might be. I was reassured when I was able to make out some phrases in the common speech and began to walk forward towards where the speakers lay, hands on my head and with my red surcoat clearly visible so any sentry who spotted me would not mistake whose side I fought on. It was not long before I was noticed, there was a cry of “halt” and a commotion as men who had been eating and resting reached for their weapons. A few moment later I was surrounded by a squad of gaunt looking men in garb that matched my own. I did not know them or their sergeant, and he eyed me suspiciously and demanded to know who I was and what I was doing there. “My name is Esteldir” I replied. “Of the Ninth Lastbridge Company commanded by Tharon. We were attacked by rebels in the High Shaws who greatly outnumbered us, and I must have been one of only a few who escaped with their lives. I was saved from the snows by villagers who took pity on me and have only just been able to resume my road northward”. He looked unconvinced, suspicious of my appearance and manner of speech and his eyes fell on my satchel and missing sword belt. “Where’s your sword soldier? We’d better let the Lieutenant deal with this one. Maeglin and Arthunir, take him over there and make sure he doesn’t run off, I think we have a deserter on our hands”. He scowled and signalled to the two men, who fell in on either side of me and walked me forwards through the clearing and onto the road where several parties of woodcutters were resting by their carts. I thought to myself that things had not begun nearly as well as I had hoped.

The Lieutenant was a big man with a broken nose and missing front teeth who looked familiar, and it took a few moments to register where I had seen him before. “Lieutenant Bor” one of the escorts said “Sergeant asked us to bring this man to you. He came out of the trees plain as you like not ten minutes since while we were eating our lunch. Says he’s come off the Shaws”. “Bloody deserter no doubt…”. The words died on his lips as it dawned on him who stood before him, and a look that didn‘t bode well for me spread across his face. “Well, if it isn’t our bloody Lordling come back to us, run away from his southern friends and reduced to the ranks from the look of it too. I don’t think they’re going to be too impressed either, you’d better have a bloody good tale to tell if you‘re going to save that precious hide of yours”. I took this as a cue to repeat my story, but before I could begin he punched me hard in the stomach without warning, and I fell gasping to my knees with the wind knocked out of me. “Search him, bind his hands and put him on one of the carts and whatever you do don’t let him run off or I’ll have your guts”.

It took me a while to recover and I spent the rest of the afternoon sat up on the front of a woodcutter’s cart with my hands tied behind my back watching them working. My new guards emptied my satchel and greedily proceeded to eat the rations that Haelwen had packed so carefully for me. I felt angry and disappointed and not a little worried for now I had repeated it my tale did ring a little hollow even to my own ears. What then would the Lord of Northford who bore me no love and would pass judgement on me make of it? It was a bitter thing indeed to seemingly find my neck under threat wherever I went.  
Eventually the sun began to sink into the west and the carts and their escort moved off again down the bumpy track back towards Northford. We passed the spot where I had been in my first fight, and where poor Radulf lay, and I thought how long ago that day now seemed, and how many hardships I had suffered since. Perhaps he had been the lucky one after all. The woodcutter driving the cart kept his own counsel and my guards had clearly decided to accept Bor’s verdict on me too, so I spent a lonely journey being buffeted by every bump and hole in the track with my hands tied uncomfortably behind my back. As we approached Northford I noticed that even the farms close to the town appeared to have been abandoned, and the camp on the eastern meadows stood empty and decrepit. When we reached the east gate and I was unceremoniously dragged off the cart and proceed on foot. I thought the streets were quieter than I remembered them too. It all added to the growing sense of disorientation and unease that was beginning to gnaw at me, for this was very different to the homescoming I had hoped for. If there were no friends to speak for me here now then I was doomed.

None paid me any heed as I walked up the familiar streets towards the Keep, still bound and with my head bowed. When we arrived at the gatehouse there was a brief discussion and the gaoler was sent for. I did not recognise any of the men there, and if any chanced to recognise me then they did not admit to it. Eventually the gaoler turned up, looking exactly as I had imagined he might, and I followed him down familiar passageways to the dungeons. They were more or less the only place in the keep that I had never been, and as castle rats we used to tell each other terrifying tales about the things that happened there as we lay in the dark in our attic waiting for sleep. I could not help but feel a twinge of the old fear as the outer door was unlocked and swung back with a groan in the flickering torchlight, but in the event my cell was a big improvement on the one I had found myself in High Burgh in almost all respects. For a start I had it to myself , there was a small high window which looked out over the town and admitted a modest amount of daylight, and the straw on the floor appeared to have been changed within living memory. A hard bunk and a slop bucket completed the furnishings, and to someone who had spent many nights out in the open in the wilderness in all weathers it was perfectly sufficient. My hands were untied and I settled down on the bunk and rested, settling my thoughts as best I could, eventually dozing off. I was woken a few hours later by the sound of the door hatch being opened, and torchlight flooded into my cell, sending shadows dancing wildly up the walls. The Gaoler had brought me a modest meal, which I hate hungrily. When I was done I passed the bowl and cup back through to him and the hatch which closed again, plunging me back into inky darkness., but for now it did not trouble me, for I had much to think about.

I remained there for two nights and the best part two days before I was sent for, and my incarceration was beginning to irk me by the time the door was opened and a sergeant came in with two men and ordered me to get up on my feet and prepare myself as best I could for my hearing with the Lord of the Keep. I did what I could with my dirty battle stained clothes and we set off up through the Keep, hands bound once again, to the great hall to hear my fate. I found myself trembling, as we strode along the corridors, for I feared the likely fate I knew awaited me there.


	47. Chapter 47

I arrived in the same anteroom where I had sat with quarrelsome merchants before I had vainly attempted to put my plaint to Nordir regarding the matter of my mother’s murder. This time it was empty save for my escort and I and it was not long before the adjutant came for us and ushered us in to the main hall.  
The Lord Of Northford and the Northern Marches sat in his carved chair on a small dais at the far end of the hall, which was gloomy and draped with many dusty and half rotted old tapestries, and I was brought up before him and dropped to my knees. But it was not Nordir who sat there as I had expected, but Berenion, and though his face was impassive, his eyes were curious and he had a good look at me as I knelt there. Hope surged in my breast, for perhaps I would get a fair hearing after now, for surely I was due for some good fortune after all my recent reverses? However the tone of his voice was severe when he spoke, and my newly rekindled hope quickly faded. “Esteldir, son of Galdirion, of Northford, you are charged with desertion, which is a most serious transgression and punishable by death. What say you in your defence?”

I looked him in the eye and decided to tell him the whole tale, including my disgrace in High Burgh, though I did not name the family who had saved me as my kin, for even to my own ears this sounded fantastical and would undermine the credibility of the rest of my story. It was a risk, for though I hoped him well disposed to me through our service together he was widely known to be an inflexible and pedantic man. When I was done, with a protestation that I had come back to Northford to resume my service, not to flee from it, and would not let him down if I was given the opportunity, he sat in silence for a few minutes pondering what he had heard. He drummed his fingers briefly on the arm of the chair and stood up, looming to an impressive height above me where I knelt. “This is indeed a tale with many twists and turns, but it makes no sense to desert an army in one place and flee back to it in another, and I know your previous service to have been exemplary. I will therefore write to Lord Berthedir in High Burgh to seek corroboration of your tale, and should I receive it then you will be free to resume your service here. If I do not then the sentence is death, and until then you will remain a prisoner in this fortress. Take him back to the dungeons”. I was hoisted to my feet and marched back the way I had come, greatly relieved at the unexpected turn of events, for I had reason to hope again, even if my fate now rested in Berthedir’s hands again.

Later on I had settled down to my long watch in the dark when I heard voices and the sound of footsteps approaching outside, and then the unexpected grinding of the key turning in the lock. Then the room was filled with dazzling light and when my eyes were able to adjust I found myself face to face with the Lord of Northford once again. He dismissed the gaoler, set the candle on the floor and sat down beside me on the bunk, appraising his surroundings critically for a moment before surprising me even further by clapping me on the shoulder and declaring that it was good to see me again. “Have no fear as to your future, for I am sorely in need of men such as you here, and whatever the reply from High Burgh I will find a way to extricate you from the bind you have found yourself in. I am sure you must understand that form must be followed in the meantime, but I will make sure you have proper rations, light and perhaps a book or two to read if that is of interest and will help you pass the days more easily”. I was shocked and grateful beyond words, and told him so, considering his handsome ascetic features as we spoke. “How came you to be Lord here? And where is Daeron?” I asked, hoping I was not being impertinent, but he took no offence and seemed almost eager to share his news with me.

“After the Chieftain was executed a meeting of the King’s High Council was convened, during which the King asserted himself and overturned many of Barachon’s designs. Nordir’s mission in the North was deemed to have failed, and since his health was also in decline he was relieved of his duties. The King sought to appoint his own man to replace him and it was decided that I, knowing well the issues we face here and being seen as an honest career soldier, would be a suitable replacement. So here I am, Lord of a draughty keep and a ruined land, whose people are flying south in ever greater numbers. The King’s exchequer could no longer afford to pay for the upkeep of the southern companies here, so they have been sent home, and Daeron with them, for news also reached us that his father was dying. My orders are to hold as best I can with what I have at my disposal. There will be no more patrolling north of the river, the Plank Bridge has been broken and the south bank of the Ford fortified. We will no longer spend the lives of our men fighting an unnumbered foe beyond our immediate walls, for I now only have what remains of the northern companies at my disposal and no more, around six hundred only. Since news of what transpired in Greenhow reached these parts many of those that hailed from the Shaws have deserted and returned home, weakening us further. So I am afraid I do not bring you good tidings, or the hope of an easy task once you leave these four walls and enter my service. However I will restore you to the rank that Daeron gave you of Lieutenant, for Bor and the others are good men and doughty fighters but they lack your subtlety and quick wits”.

He continued. “Elsewhere, as you are already aware Berthedir holds High Burgh but little more in the Hillmen’s domain, but it is yet a prize for they still need to trade with Bearcliffe to make a living, and Bearcliffe and the rest of the country need the fruits of that trade too. But whenever he steps beyond his front door the Chieftain’s son and his rebels bloody ouris nose in no uncertain fashion, as you yourself found out. It is said that none have ever taken the Shaws by force, and none ever will. Even our forefathers in the morning of the North Kingdom did not attempt the deed, but rather bought the friendship and loyalty of the Hillmen through trade and the giving of gifts. Without that friendship and loyalty now the Kingdom of Rhudaur is hamstrung, our people divided in their loyalties, our armies deprived of men and the royal coffers ever shorter of coin from lost levies and taxation. Some speak of attempting a reconciliation with the other Dunedain Kingdoms before it is too late, a few even mutter in dark corners of the King Of Angmar, and how those who saw him throw down our current King in battle long ago say he was a peerless and puissant Numenorean warrior worthy of allegiance. Though why such as he would deign to consort with orcs I know not, unless he is the descendant of Black Numenoreans and therefore wholly evil. But I fear our own King cannot and will not act decisively to stem our tide of troubles, for he ails, and is also hindered at every turn by the schemes and intrigues in his court. So I do not know what will happen, we can only play our own parts as well as we can and see how the tale ends.”

We talked for a little while longer and then he rose and bid me a good night, leaving me with his candle. The following day my rations were noticeably better and the gaoler more respectful. I was given more candles and a Castle Rat came to the dungeon burdened with a heavy tome, which turned out to be a History of Rhudaur, presumably from the small library in the Lord’s apartments. It had been a while since I had read anything more than a set of orders or a despatch so it was an effort at first, but I was soon whiling away the long tedious hours of my captivity lost amongst ancient tales of great deeds, long forgotten alliances and feuds, and there was much of interest regarding the Northern Marches. I also spent time exercising as best I could, for I was still weak following my brush with death in the snow. My arms in particular were given plenty to do, for if I timed my leap correctly it was possible to seize the bars on the window opening and pull myself up for a view of the outside world. It faced eastward, and over the next few weeks I was able to watch for a few minutes at a time as the snow receded on the distant uplands and summits of the misty mountains, Hoarwell Vale slowly greening again as Spring began to take a firm hold.

Six weeks after my initial return to Northford Berenion received a reply to his enquiry as to my fate from High Burgh, which stated that I was presumed lost after an ambush on the White River had wiped out my company. By this time I had read and re read the History and had become something of an authority on its contents, and it was bitter sweet to read of the prosperity and industry of Northford and the surrounding areas, for the book had been completed in my Grandfather’s youth. I had decided, if fate ever permitted it, to continue the tale and bring it up to date. I was finally released on a warm sunny morning with small white clouds scudding across a blue sky on a breeze that smelt of the forest and green things, and despite everything I had been through I could not but help be filled with renewed optimism, for I was truly back where I belonged.


	48. Chapter 48

I was taken up to the Lord’s chambers, where I had not been since my days as a castle rat, and shown into the same room where Angon had spoken with me when I was newly orphaned. It brought many memories back, not all of them pleasant. However it turned out Mileth still served as housekeeper there and she remembered me and greeted me as warmly as ever when we met in the corridor, her face a little more lined and her hair now streaked with silver but with her familiar smile undimmed. The room itself was little changed, the table still heaped with scrolls and the familiar view of the vale beyond the leaded panes of the windows, but now Berenion occupied it, along with another familiar face who greeted me with an enthusiasm which was returned in full. It none other than Captain Arahael, unrecognised hero of the first Battle of the Ford, and though our paths had crossed often enough during the time before the march to High Burgh, this was the first time in a long time that we had had occasion to speak to one another. I was a little surprised by his presence there, for he and Nordir had been bitterly at odds and only his prowess and standing among the Northford soldiery had kept him in his position, but it soon became clear that whatever mistrust and dislike of the southern Lord and his captains he had harboured no longer extended to Berenion. This gave me further cause to admire the new Lord and his evident wisdom and leadership qualities. I was to be attached to his company, which was a cause of great satisfaction to me, but would also be available to assist the Lord in such matters as he saw fit from time to time.

After our very cordial discussions were concluded I was re-equipped and rearmed and introduced to the other men of rank who commanded the three companies presently housed in the Keep. I had served alongside many of them already, and a few of them as Castle Rats too. I was received warmly in the main, but Bor kept his own counsel and I did not press the point with him. We were billeted in the West Tower, near the Lord’s apartments and close to the men, and it was usual for each man with the rank of Lieutenant or above to be given his own chamber. Now that the size of the garrison had been greatly reduced there was plenty of space, and I did find myself with my own room for the first time since my childhood. It was no bigger than the cell I had just vacated and not greatly better furnished but I still took delight in arranging my few possessions and stowing my gear before crossing to the main hall for the evening meal with the men. Again I was cordially received and reacquainted with many familiar faces, though it seemed strangely quiet now compared to the constant hustle and bustle I had grown up with and become accustomed to there.

Afterwards I made my excuses and withdrew early for the night, weary from all the excitement and novelty after my long confinement. I was in my room, sittng by the window watching the moon rise over the Ettenmoors and mulling all the days events over in my mind when there was a knock at the door. Surprised, I rose and opened it, and my surprise increased when I found Bor standing there. Unsure what to do, I followed the usual form and invited him in, slightly concerned at what might follow. In the event I needn’t have worried, for he told me that he wanted to speak to me and continued, saying that now we were to serve Arahael together that there would be no room for personal differences between us. He said he had come to make peace and hoped I would be of the same mind. I agreed unreservedly, and he apologised for soiling my bed and beating me, and I apologised for knocking his front teeth out and marring his looks. Then we both laughed and embraced and were staunch friends from that day forward. I did not know if Arahael himself had prompted the change of heart but I took the gift at face value.

So began my new career as a Northford soldier, and though it was hard and the rations were never quite enough I was content and threw myself into the work I was given, which to begin with was mainly concerned with Berenion’s retrenchments. What remained of the settlement and fortifications on the north bank of the ford had been abandoned, and any useful materials recovered and brought back over the bridge. Then with a heavy heart and a full realisation as to the significance of their actions the bridge itself, which had stood there in one form or another since the early days of the Kingdom and provided easy passage to all the domains north of the river, was dismantled. At the same time work had begun on a defensive wall along the full length of the shallows. It was to include a gate and barbican flanked by two solid towers, for it might still be necessary to send men across the river from time to time. The raw material for this work was provided by the ford itself and the boulder fields exposed at low water. It was this work that I joined and it was arduous, but we made rapid progress, and by midsummer the section including the gate protecting the most likely point of attack where the bridge had stood was nigh on complete. I questioned and learned much from the masons regarding the building of walls and towers at this time and proved adept at organising the men, thinking this might prove to be an avenue I could pursue if peace ever came. 

Progress was helped by the fact that the enemy troubled us little that year, or the one after, for the King of Angmar once again turned his attention elsewhere and Cardolan felt the full force of his wrath, though we knew little of it at the time. However we did find ourselves taxed by a new enemy at our backs, for whilst the rebel Hillmen did not come openly against us in battle they began to attack our supply trains more frequently on the South Road and occasionally our woodcutting parties too, so we spent a large part of our time on escort duty, though I never had cause to go further south than Bearcliffe.

The decline of the town of Northford continued during this period despite the lull in hostilities, and many streets now fell silent, the houses closed up and empty, especially in the upper town. The townsfolk, most often those with some means or a trade chose to make the short journey south to the fortified enclave around Bearcliffe, or made the longer journey to Lastbridge. The fear of yet another hungry winter and living with the constant threat of further attacks from the north drove those who saw the prospect of a better life in the south away, and the more that left, the more followed. I often walked the now silent streets below the keep and visited the ruins of my old home. They had never been built on, and a tangle of brambles and a thicket of birch trees grew there now amongst the heaps of sad blackened stones. Closer to the walls Fodric’s former home also lay abandoned, waiting for better times, and his relocation to Lastbridge thwarted for the moment any further hopes of my being revenged on him. I did feel compelled to break into the place again, but found nothing of any interest this time.

In keeping with the lull in hostilities the winter of 1331 was relatively mild, and the snows came later and thawed earlier and were not as deep as in previous years. As a result the road stayed open on all but a few days and we did not go hungry, and for a while life in the north was not so bad. The respite continued, and my life became one of well worn routine, for the most part free of peril, living a hard but satisfactory amongst good friends and I was happy. It is in our nature to quickly forget how bad things were previously, and some began to openly speak of peace, the rebuilding of the Plank Bridge and the resettling of the lands around Northford. However Lord Berenion remained vigilant, for he guessed correctly that this was merely a calm before the storm that was to come.


	49. Chapter 49

Small parties of scouts had continued to cross the river and range through the northern vales and up onto the moors, and for a long while they reported little sign of the enemy. In the spring of 1335 however this changed, bands of orcs were sighted once again, and two scouting parties did not return and were presumed lost. Berenion immediately withdrew all his men back across the river and sent word to Bearcliffe asking for reinforcements, for he surmised correctly that the lull in hostilities was over. The previous autumn a few poor souls had fetched up at the West Gate in Lastbridge bringing tales of war and devastation in Cardolan with them. Afterwards further rumours, perhaps brought by Elven and Dwarfish travellers along the East Road from Bree began to circulate that Tharbad, weary of sending soldiers north who did not return and fearful of the future had seceded from the Kingdom, declaring themselves vassals under the protection of Gondor and leaving the northern part of their land to fight on alone. Having further weakened another of his foes it seemed clear that the King Of Angmar was ready to turn his attention toward us once again.

In the Shaws, Ulfred’s rebellion grew bolder, and he began to raid along the road from Bearcliffe to High Burgh, disrupting trade and stealing supplies, something he had previously deemed too perilous. As a result Berenion’s plea for reinforcements found itself competing against Berthedir’s, and as a result only six more companies, around twelve hundred men, came north to our aid just before midsummer. They were mostly Bearcliffe men, some of whom had previously served with us, and they were led by Huron, son of the lord of that town. Berenion cursed his luck, and prayed that his defences, long since readied, would be sufficient.  
It had rained little in the spring and the summer brought long weeks of hot sunny days, which in other times would have been very welcome but filled us with foreboding as we watched the river diminish and braid into a hundred streams across the boulder fields of the ford. If the enemy came now, the lack of a bridge would not hinder them. 

And come they did, a week after midsummer on yet another bright sunny morning, announcing themselves with a blaring of horns and trumpets. They came along the old road out of the vales marching in massed ranks and good order with their banners sporting the ghostly tower of Carn Dum. To the east an answering blare of trumpets of a different, more discordant tone came in reply, and there on that road was another host, of orcs this time, and we found ourselves caught in the jaws of a pincer.

I was drilling the men of our company in the courtyard with Bor when we heard the enemy announcing their arrival, and a counter signal was sounded over the town from one of the watchtowers. The Keep was suddenly alive with activity, as large numbers of men rushed hither and thither readying themselves for battle. We ordered our own soldiers to join the preparations and await further orders, and made our way quickly to the Great Hall to hear Berenion’s orders. Plans had already been put into place for our disposition in the event of a surprise attack on the Ford, and we had practised them well, but the unexpected arrival of the second host on the wrong side of the river had changed everything.

This looked to be something of a masterstroke on the enemy’s part, as failing to hold the East Meadows would render the new defences on the Ford useless as the ramparts did not communicate with the town walls and could therefore be easily flanked. Berenion, who looked and sounded surprisingly calm despite the circumstances therefore ordered Arahael and Huron to take the majority of the men to the East Gate and engage the orc host. The rampart on the Ford would be manned with far fewer soldiers than had originally been hoped as a result, and Berenion himself would command there. If the day went ill then we should not hesitate to fall back to the town walls, for we were greatly outnumbered and could not afford to spend the lives of our men lightly. I too felt surprisingly calm in those familiar surroundings, surrounded by my friends, and as we stood there I studied their faces around me in all their wonderful variety. I thought how much I cared for every one of them, and with a familiar pang wondered how many would be dead by nightfall. Berenion finished his speech by exhorting us to do our duty to the utmost of our strength, reminding us that the fate of the North, and by extension the rest of the Kingdom now lay in our hands. I gripped my sword and shouted my approval and defiance with the others and then we turned and set off as one to leave, and a purposeful silence fell on the hall. As we passed through the arch and descended the steps I wondered whether it would be the last time I would see that place, but I mastered the sudden pang of fear that followed calmly as I had done many times before, and caught up with Arahael just as we entered the chaos of the courtyard. It was not long before the chaos in the courtyard subsided to be replaced by order and very soon the serried ranks of our various companies marched out of the Keep and down the steep narrow streets of the town. Rather than the North Gate as originally planned, it was to the East that most of us now went. We arrived there and passed out onto the East Meadows along the old road and into the ruins of the camp, fanning out towards the river to try and forestall any rapid advance by the enemy.

However my spirits did sink a little when I beheld our foe. Arrayed on the far side of the old camp the orc host had paused and look to be preparing for the fight, for I could see figures milling to and fro amongst their massed ranks, perhaps carrying orders and sending messages to the captains in just the same way we did. We estimated their number at around three thousand, and we stood at less than half of that number, since many men had also been left to man the gates and town walls. I busied myself with our own preparations and was given command of the left flank by the river, which at that point still ran strongly within its banks, even if the level was lower than normal. We would not be flanked from that direction at least. Eventually all was prepared and we waited in the hot sun, uncomfortable in our battle gear, and an uneasy silence fell on the field. In the distance to our rear trumpets sounded, and we assumed that the advance across the ford had begun, but as yet the orc host that faced us made no move, waiting silently and largely immobile now. The wait continued, and a germ of suspicion began to grow in my mind as sweat dripped into my eyes from under my helm and gathered under my leather breastplate. It had long been rumoured that orcs hated direct sunlight, for they had almost always chosen to fight us under the cover of the forest, in poor weather or at night for that matter, and perhaps the very thing which had weakened the flow of the river and opened the ford to the enemy was now hindering them from fighting. If so we should surely take advantage, and the captains must be made aware of the possibility.

I left the sergeant in command and went to look for Arahael, and found him by the road, deep in conversation with Huron and his captains. He saluted and greeted me warmly. “Hail Esteldir. It seems our foe are reluctant to engage us under this bright sun. We are debating whether we should take the fight to them in that case, so what say you?” I replied without hesitation. “I have fought them often, but always in the shade of the forest, clouded skies or under cover of darkness. I agree that we should strike whilst they are discomfited, though they outnumber us threefold”. He smiled and clapped me on the shoulder. “Wise words, let it be so. Either we wait here and allow them to engage us on their terms, or we take the battle to them, though the hope of an outright victory is slight”. 

I returned to my section emboldened, and relayed the order along the line as I went. The horns sounded the command to advance in good order and we set off toward the enemy. When the gap between the hosts closed to a bowshot our archers began to loose volleys towards the foe, and though they replied, it was less robust than we could possibly have hoped, and far more fell in their lines than ours. Still they did not charge us, but began to form into defensive walls as we closed on them, hoods pulled over their heads. Closer and closer we came and eventually a shriek went up from their host and they charged us, and we in turn charged them. Two waves crashed together in a cacophony of clashing steel and screaming. Hindered by their cloaks and hoods, and fatally distracted when relieved of them, the orc host did not stand for long despite their greater numbers, and ignoring the urgings of their captains began to turn and run, streaming back up the valley towards the shade of the forest. They had a good distance to run, and very many of them did not reach the shade they desired so much, for we were filled with battle rage and cut them down like wheat. Eventually we halted, overcome by the heat of the day and weariness, and watched the remainder disappear into the distance. Some of our number wished to continue, and would have done so, but Arahael saw the danger of allowing his forces to over extend themselves and a withdrawal was sounded. We formed up and marched back towards the town, over ground strewn with dead orcs, bloodied and weary, but the day was not yet won, and our troubles were only just beginning.


	50. Chapter 50

After halting close to the town walls, tending to our wounded and taking the opportunity to slake our thirsts what remained of Arahael and Huron’s men set off for the Ford to render aid to what might remain of Berenion’s forces there. Things were beginning to go ill for them, and the rampart had been breached in a number of places so our arrival was barely soon enough. Weary though I now was I led our company against a force of Northmen who had come over the eastern end of the wall. They proved a doughtier foe by far than the orcs, untroubled as they were by sunlight, but even so we eventually managed to drive them back the way they had come. More of our men came up along the top of the rampart and cut off their escape, pouring arrows into their backs as they stood and fought us. Here at least the outcome was inevitable, and some began to throw down their arms and sue for mercy. This time they were shown none.

Elsewhere things went ill, for the enemy had by sheer weight of numbers and at great cost managed to breach the barbican, and Berenion and Arahael found themselves fighting a furious rearguard action in front of the North Gate. The Silver Captain who commanded our foe there concentrated all his strength against them, and pressed them back to the walls, breaking their lines and eventually forcing them to close the gate. Many men ended up trapped outside and came running our way, and weary as we were we formed up once again to cover their retreat. It was an unequal fight, for the men we faced were fresh, well armed and apparently now battle hardened fighters, unlike those I had faced in the past. We too had no choice but to fall back, and what followed is now only a hazy memory filled with heat and pain, for to this day I do not know quite how I was able to get myself to the East Gate whole and alive, for we were totally overwhelmed. 

In the event I was one of the last few who made it through before it was closed with a great thud and a crash, and I stood dazed for a moment in the cobbled street below the watchtower before falling to my knees, one of many exhausted soldiers there. A similar scene had also played out at the South Gate, although Huron and many of his men were cut off and chose instead to flee homeward down the South Road. The Northmen they were fighting made no great effort to pursue them, and at first they deemed this a stroke of good fortune. But later that evening as they rested near the road a force of Hillmen, who had been waiting on the road for any such as they escaping from the battle came upon them and put them to the sword. Only one man escaped the slaughter and made it back alive to the defences at Bearcliffe, carrying tidings of the terrible defeat and siege of Northford.

Berenion, although badly wounded had made it back through the gate, and remained in command of the garrison. Fearing the worst, he ordered that plans long and carefully considered for a dire eventuality such as the one we now faced be put into effect. The townsfolk who remained were withdrawn into the Keep, along with all the stores of food and water that could be brought with them. As night fell and the still sizeable orc host began to stream back down the vale from the east, all but a few guards, fleet of foot and hale, remained to watch on the gates. The rest of us had also crowded into the Keep, now too spent for any more fighting. Following a small meal I made my way to my chamber but found the corridor outside was now crowded with townsfolk, mainly women and children. Instead I went up to one of the high battlements overlooking the courtyard. Though the climb cost me dearly up here at least there was a cooling night breeze blowing down off the moors and it was almost pleasant to look out and see the moon rising over the darkening land. But for the watch fires of our enemy springing up around our walls it could have been a night like any other. I felt my weariness begin to overcome me, so I laid the cloak I had carried up with me down on the cool flags of the walkway where I was, making myself as comfortable as I could. Accustomed as I was to such hard bedding, it was not long before I was fast asleep.

I awoke, chilled and stiff around midnight. Down below in the distance horns blew and voices shrieked, and for a moment I did not know where I was, but it did not take me long to remember. Far below in the courtyard I heard the first of the guards who had run up through the town arriving from the East Gate to report that the orcs had launched an assault, and I realised with a start that Berenion did not purpose to answer it. They soon swarmed over the walls and opened the gate and poured into the town. The runners from the North and South Gates were not long in following the first, and the great gates of the Keep clanged shut behind them, men wrestling huge beams into place to secure them. A murmur of dismay went up from the crowd that had gathered down below, and it was soon answered by horns sounding down by the river. A horn of our own sounded suddenly bright and clear in the keep, and weary as we were those of us under arms knew it was another summons to action.

With the cloak draped over my shoulders I descended stiffly down the many steps and stairways, often pausing to allow groups of bleary eyed archers and others running errands to pass by in the other direction. I knew the Great Hall had been given over to townsfolk and our wounded, so I made my way to Berenion’s apartments instead through the throng. My surmise was correct, and I was shown to his crowded study where the surviving captains and lieutenants had gathered. As I entered the dimly lit room there was a murmur of greeting and I searched the faces counting who was still there. More than I had hoped, for sure, but there were some that I could not find, including Bor. At the centre of the room Berenion stood, leaning on the table, with his head and shield arm bandaged. He looked even more austere than normal, pale and drawn, and I recognised the look of a man in pain and at the end of his strength. 

He acknowledged me with a nod and began to speak. “I believe all of us that remain and can still fight are here now, so I will begin. Yesterday we suffered defeat for the first time against an enemy that has grown mightily in strength and skill since we last faced them in open battle eight years ago. I am honoured to have fought alongside such brave men as you are, but I was not willing to spend your lives fruitlessly trying to defend the town walls when we had no hope of success. Northford is lost, the enemy are pouring through the gates and will doubtless soon be at our walls, and I grieve bitterly for it. However this ancient Keep is a different matter, our walls and gate are high and strong, we have the numbers to defend it and with careful husbandry have provisions enough to last a month at a pinch even with the townsfolk crowded here. At sunset I despatched scouts into the forest to attempt the journey south to bring word of the siege to Bearcliffe and Lastbridge. We must hope that they reach Bearcliffe and that Lastbridge will send a force north to relieve us before we starve”. He then set about organising our defences. The courtyard was to be emptied of any remaining townsfolk, but any willing to fetch and carry to the walls could remain. Skilled archers would man the arrowslits in the gatehouse tower and in the lower walls, and any who could lay hands on a bow and wield it could fire down on the enemy from the upper battlements and towers. Though a good store of arrows had been laid in at the armoury each must be made to count. Three companies, or what remained of them, would stand in the courtyard ready to defend any breach of the gate and the remainder would be tasked with keeping the archers supplied, whilst others would bring up any heavy objects that could be cast down on attackers such as cobbles from the courtyard up onto the battlements in readiness for any assault on the gate. Arahael’s company were given the west wall and gatehouse, and then business was concluded, with Berenion wishing us well for what lay ahead.

I left the apartments with Arahael, and we set about finding our men in the crowded chaos of the halls and passageways, both of us now weary beyond words. We split up and when I had done what I could wound my way to the gatehouse tower and clambered slowly up the steep staircases and landings until I was on the roof. Many of our men were already there, and archers were preparing in the lower galleries and on the wall. I paused for a moment to regain my breath and allow the screaming muscles in my limbs to quieten, then made my way over to the battlement. Overhead a bright full moon was rising over the shaws behind us and casting long shadows. The night air was still warm but a pleasant breeze blew at this height, and on any other night it would have been a joy to stand up here and look out, as indeed I had done many times previously. The town was laid out below, and as I looked out one of the sergeants came and stood next to me. I knew the man well and clapped him companionably on the shoulder. He shook his head in dismay. “See, they are in the town now, down in the lower market. Curse the filth!” As he spoke fire and sparks leapt up among the rooftops in that vicinity, and it was not long before many other fires were also lit and took hold. Unhindered, and with many old buildings clustered close together there could only be one outcome, and as we watched horror struck the many fires now burning grew and spread and joined together. It was not long before we were completely surrounded by a wall of immense leaping flame and roiling smoke and the moonlit night was replaced by a nightmarish orange daylight. I had never seen a fire so huge or fierce, even in the forest, and the flames were like something living, writhing and curling and strangely beautiful in their majesty. The tremendous heat could be felt intensely even as high up as we were, and the sound was something indescribable, an insatiable hungry roar. The changeable breeze periodically wafted the smoke our way and it made our eyes sting and choked us and a fine rain of sparks and ash began to fall all around us. Soon even the familiar buildings in the streets around the Keep that I had known all my life began to succumb to the flames. I could not bear to watch any longer, and slumped down against the rough stonework of the parapet and wept, for I knew in my heart what was now being destroyed would never return.


	51. Chapter 51

The enemy did not come to our walls that night, and could not have done so even if they had wished to, for the fire they had unleashed would have made it impossible. They did not come the following day either, and we watched wearily from the heights as the fires subsided and were replaced by an immense pall of smoke that rose high into the heavens. Fortunately what little wind there was had swung round into the south so we were spared being choked and blinded by it as we had been the night before. It was the third day before the fires finally began to burn out and the enemy finally made their move.

They came at dawn, with a blare of horns, but we were ready for them. A great press of men and orcs came up through the blackened ruins of the town, and among them were teams carrying battering rams hastily fashioned from felled trees. I watched from high above as they closed to within bowshot of the walls, and our archers began to rain death down on them. They had archers of their own, but though they loosed off many arrows in reply few found their mark to my knowledge, and clattered harmlessly off the stonework of the walls or fell into the courtyard, where they were gathered up ready to be returned whence they had come. Despite our efforts weight of numbers prevailed and the foe were able to bring one of their rams up to the gate, and at this I gave the word and men began to gather up the cobbles that had been brought up from the yard and they cast them down to terrible effect. Soon the street in front of the gate was heaped with their dead, but still they came, though the screams of the maimed and dying were terrible. We rapidly exhausted our supplies of stones and more men were detailed to replace them, bringing them up in relays from below. However despite our deadly efforts the ram began to boom like a great drum on the gate. The sound filled me with dismay, and like all others who heard it I prayed silently that the gate would hold.

We need not have feared, for it was very old but well made and the tree trunk made little impression on it. By noon the enemy, who had suffered great loss, fell back leaving their dead and dying behind them in the heat of another fine summer afternoon. A ragged cheer went up along the battlements, but it was a hollow victory, for we knew this was only the first stroke and we would face many more from an enemy who had every advantage over us. We were already on short rations, short of water, and if our enemy was well supplied then all he would have to do was starve us out, or wait until we ran out of arrows or cobbles or became too weak to reply and they would be able to break our gate and slaughter us. It was far too soon to hope for a relief force from the south, but already men were beginning to look that way and exclaim impatiently that no help had been sent.

The first few days of the siege were tolerable enough, and people kept their spirits up, but the mood soon began to sour with so many souls packed so closely together without adequate supplies. It was not long before the close confinement began to breed tensions, especially when the meagre daily rations were being doled out. Berenion was forced to set guards and send patrols round the Keep to maintain order, and quite a few individuals, both soldiers and townsfolk ended up in the dungeons after disobeying edicts or fighting with their fellows. Soon the weakest, those who were either already sick or badly wounded began to die, famished, thirsty and surrounded by filth, and with nowhere to bury them their bodies were wrapped and stowed in a cool storeroom in the cellars. I could not abide what was happening and spent as much time as I could up on my tower away from the stench and overcrowding down below, sleeping under the stars and spending my days watching beyond our walls. We had little to do, the enemy returned twice in the first week and both times we turned them back with considerable loss, unable to break the gate. After that they did little other than taunt us periodically, and their dead remained lying where they had fallen. The continuing hot weather soon meant there was yet another unbearable stench to for us to contend with as the corpses rapidly became corrupted. After suffering heavy losses at first it seemed they had decided to wait us out until we sued for mercy or became too weak to defend ourselves. They had set up camp in the ruins of the town, and during the first week at least two supply columns crossed the ford to replenish their stores, yet another sign that our enemy was growing ever more formidable, and that his reach now stretched far from Carn Dum.

At the end of the first week the fine weather broke and there were thunderstorms and heavy downpours of rain which not only allowed us to replenish our supplies of water by whatever means we could, but also temporarily washed away some of the filth and stench, which was a sweet relief while it lasted. I was queuing for my daily ration of bread with some of my men when a summons came from Berenion. I left the line and made my way up through the crowded corridors and stairways full of listless haggard folk, and tried not to breathe too much. Many were falling ill now, scouring, and I feared that if help did not come soon that death would be coming to us all one way or another. The door to Berenion’s apartment was open, and I went in. He was sat at the table where I had first seen Angon all those years earlier, and I was shocked at how quickly he had deteriorated even in the space of a few days, his skin had a grey pallor to it and the lines of his skull were now evident in his emaciated face. A few of the other captains and lieutenants were already there and he acknowledged my arrival with a weak wave of his hand. I nodded to the others and we waited in silence, fearing to speak. When the others had arrived he broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “Brothers, I fear I overestimated our ability to withstand a siege, for it seems there were more left in the town than I had reckoned on, and even after a week our store of food is already low and sickness is spreading. The welcome rain of the last days has given us some store of water again, and perhaps the well will be replenished for a little while too, but unless relief comes soon from the south I fear we are doomed. The quartermaster informs me that we have no more than four days store of food left, even at the current ration, which is insufficient to sustain fighting men. I seek your counsel on this matter, for I know it may be difficult to sustain order for much longer, and there are mutterings that the townsfolk should be left to starve, or sent out beyond our gates to take their chances with the enemy”.

Nobody spoke for a moment, but then Arahael replied, in a loud clear voice intended for any of our fellows who might have been thinking otherwise, for surely that would have been the case. “My Lord, I say we wait, and we continue to dole out rations to all, meagre as they may be. The rain has given us renewed hope and we must remain steadfast. Let it be known that I will have the neck of any who think to hatch plots and save their own skins whilst damning the rest. We are not orcs”. He too looked gaunt, but a fierce fire burned in his eyes, and I was filled with love and admiration for him, for he was the best of men. “I am with you” I replied, and there was a general murmur of approval from the rest of those who stood with us. “Good, that is settled then” said Berenion quietly. “Woe betide any who take matters into their own hands for I decree that a punishment of death now awaits them, for one less mouth to feed means more for the rest who remain”. I knew he was in deadly earnest, and I sincerely hoped none would be foolish enough to test his resolve, however desperate they were.

On the fourth day of the second week the rations ran out, and the announcement was met with weary dismay in the keep. Many people were already attempting to chew leather or eat cloth and other novel items to try and assuage the terrible hunger they felt. They began to die too, every day a few more corpses were laid out in the yard, and then taken down to the overflowing storeroom in the cellars. A woman, driven mad with grief at the death of her infant in the night threw herself from the walls, but unfortunately did not die from the fall and lay maimed and broken on the cobbles below us, sobbing in pain. I witnessed her fall from the tower but was too far away to do anything to prevent it, but I descended to see what could be done. A crowd had gathered on the rampart and I ordered them curtly aside and looked down. The poor girl was still very much alive, but her limbs were splayed out in implausible directions and I knew straight away that there was no hope for her. Already the enemy sentries were gathering just out of bowshot to see what sport awaited them. I sent one of my men back to the tower to order some archers down, and they arrived shortly after. By that time a large group of northmen had gathered, and more were joining them all the time. I cursed, for now there would now be no hope of a sally from the gate to rescue her, even if there had been any good purpose to it. I barked “shoot her” at the nearest bowman, but he trembled and shook his head and made as if to plead with me, even though he knew it might cost him his neck. Her whimpering continued below, and taking pity on the poor man I snatched the bow out of his hand and took an arrow from his quiver, leant over the wall, drew and loosed it. The first shot found its mark easily enough at that range but to my dismay it did not kill her, and her whimpers turned to shrieks. I cursed my ill fortune, notched another arrow, took careful aim again and this time found my mark. I met her eyes as she died, but could not read any message there save one of pain and horror. Weakened though I was the old anger rose in me, and I screamed defiance at the watching enemy and raged at those who stood idly around me as cowards and carrion crows, and they quickly vanished. I remained where I was for a very long time, unable to move, for I was completely spent in mind and body. Fortunately the bowman who had defied me returned and helped me back to the tower.


	52. Chapter 52

I still shudder when I look back and consider how dreadful our situation was in the days that followed, though after a short while we strangely ceased to be as hungry, and the hunger was replaced by a great lassitude and for a while an unaccustomed clarity of thought. Once things were ordered in the tower I began to spend a good part of my days with Berenion, who was now abed and no longer able to rise. Mileth still served him there, though she too looked aged and shrunken by her ordeal, and she did what she could to ease his suffering. I feared his wound was turning bad, but he was made of stern stuff and remained lucid nonetheless. We spoke long of his home and life, and on many other diverse subjects and I grew to know him better, and him me, and my admiration and love for him grew as the days passed and he began to fade. He too was the finest of men, learned, cultured and compassionate, and I wished with all my heart that he could have been born in better times free of hardship and suffering.

On the afternoon of the thirteenth day of the siege, another day of welcome rain, horns sounded in the enemy camp and there was suddenly a great deal of activity down in the town. It was not at first clear what the cause was, but the following morning a host appeared on the south road, and we knew our prayers for help had been answered, our besiegers now found themselves besieged in turn. A great cry went up along the walls, a horn was sounded, and the Keep was suddenly roused as the news spread like a wildfire. I descended the tower and set off for Berenion’s apartments, where I knew the others would be gathering to decide our next move. I had strapped my sword belt back on, for it had seemed an unnecessarily heavy burden whilst it served no purpose but that had changed and I had regained some of my former strength. 

Berenion was not in the chamber when I arrived, and he did not rise to join us. Instead Arahael took command of the gathering, and though he did not outrank any there his leadership was accepted without question. The walls of the town were low, and the gates weak, for they had not been intended to keep out an army. It was clear that Lastbridge had been emptied and a great force had been sent north in relief, and the enemy would now be hard pressed to mount a defence. Arahael, haggard and drawn as he was, proposed that once the attack began that we should organise a sally with all who could still fight and bear down on the enemy from the rear. There was general assent, for we were grown weary of our incarceration, and I for one had decided I would prefer to die with a sword in my hand than slowly starve to death in the corner of a tower. We were sent out with orders to gather volunteers only for the foray, for our hunger had weakened us and would greatly increase our peril fighting against our well fed and well rested foe. In the event there was no shortage of men willing to join the sally in the tower or anywhere else in the Keep and in the event about seven or eight hundred men had crowded into the courtyard by late afternoon. However the lookouts reported no sign of an impending attack, and the mood of tense anticipation soon turned to disappointment. When it became clear that there would be no fighting that day Arahael announced a stand down and there was a general murmur of dismay and some men threw their weapons down in anger. I felt sympathy for them, for we had waited a long time for this day, and it is not easy to prepare yourself for battle and all that may mean only to find that it is not going to happen and all must be repeated the following day.

That following day dawned bright with the promise of heat like so many others that summer. I remember looking out from the top of the tower and seeing the remnants of the night mists burning off over the river, and the distant mountain peaks clear and stark against the morning sky. Already there was activity in the camps beyond the walls, and it was clear that matters would now be settled. I was surprised by the size of the host that had come north to deliver us, for they must have numbered at least eight thousand, and such numbers had not been raised since my father’s day. I thought to myself that perhaps some hope remained after all. I was shaken from my reverie by my brothers stirring and rising to their feet behind me, and we armed and armoured ourselves and descended to receive a ration of water from the well. Today we were allowed all we wished to drink, in hope that it would see us delivered from the siege, and I myself drank until I could hold no more, as did most of my fellows. Afterwards we formed up in the crowded yard, and the captains held a brief conference. Arahael once again took charge and it was agreed that half of our force would engage whatever part of the enemy’s strength had been left encircling the Keep, whilst the remainder would descend through the ruins of the town and attempt to break the defence of the East Gate where the enemy defence most likely to be at its lightest. It appeared from the disposition of the relief force that their attack might come there too if they could flank the town via the ford, and if we could take the gate and open it to admit them then it was likely the siege could be ended very quickly.

After a wait of no more than an hour, we heard the familiar blare of many friendly horns down below, and knew that the assault had commenced. The beams and bolts were drawn slowly back from the battered keep gates and they were drawn back. With a ragged yell we burst out into the stinking corpse strewn street beyond, volleys of arrows whistling overhead from the walls above, and crashed into the enemy lines. Half starved though we were we fought with fury and they soon began to fall back, for they had not left a great strength to guard us and we soon began to overpower them. A cry went up and those of us who had orders to head for the gate broke off and began to descend through the town, dispersing as planned amongst the narrow streets and alleyways so that we might attack the gate from several directions at once. 

I moved at a quick march through the narrow ways, with perhaps sixty or seventy of my men at my back. It was a place I had known since childhood, but now it was terribly altered, for most of the buildings that had stood there for all the time I had known them were gone, replaced by burnt out shells and toppled walls, and an acrid stink of ash and burnt things. The horns of the enemy sounded in the town both below and above, and at one point where our alley met a wider street we came up against a company of orcs, seemingly heading uphill to bolster the force at the keep. A fight broke out, and hampered by the narrow way we found ourselves in difficulties until another group who had been descending another route parallel to ours discovered them and broke upon their rear, and the tide was quickly turned. I was aching and weary by this point, but when I saw who led our rescuers I could not but help smile, for it was none other than Sergeant Cenric, gaunt and cadaverous and looking more fearsome than ever. He too grinned when he saw me. “Come along Lordling” he quipped “let us not be late for the main battle”. We resumed our journey together, uniting our strength with another group as we closed on the precinct.

As we had hoped the East Gate was not strongly defended, but it was still held by a sizeable force who thronged along the walls and spilled back into the streets that led up to it. It was these that we fell on first, and because we brought our strength to bear on them from many directions at once they could not truly judge our strength and were thrown into confusion. The fight was fierce nonetheless, and already tired and weak as I was it took everything I had to avoid being struck down and killed. However Arahael’s plan worked well indeed for many of the defenders there were orcs already discomfited by the sunlight, and in the end it was not we who opened the gate, but our foe, who now encircled decided to try and run back the way they had come. The fight ended abruptly and a strange silence fell, for though we held the now open gate, as yet none came to make use of it, for the main part of the battle still raged elsewhere. I prayed that our sacrifice had not been in vain, for many of those who had sallied from the Keep with me now lay dead and those who still lived were now completely spent, as was I. We waited, listening to the sounds of battle ebb and flow, and then the men up on the battlement began to cry out. Those of us who still had the strength to do so roused ourselves and streamed out of the gate, and saw a column of men in red, under a red banner, marching our way, bearing hastily constructed siege ladders and a ram for the gate. 

When they saw us in turn a roar went up and they dropped their siege materials and broke into a charge towards us. Our meeting was joyful, but they had pity in their eyes when they beheld us close to, and their day’s work was far from done. They streamed past us through the gate, and having sent word back along the walls other companies soon began to follow. In the nick of time as it transpired, for the enemy had learned of what had happened at the East Gate and had sent reinforcements to try and retake it. However we played no further part in the battle that day ourselves, but tended to our wounded and dying until a supply cart was brought up and we were finally able to break our long fast, crowding eagerly round it. As we gratefully tore into small chunks of bread the quartermasters had cut up for us, telling us sternly that starving men must not eat too much too soon, a party of horsemen were seen approaching the gate. They were clearly of import, as men on foot they passed made way for them and did obeisance as they approached, and Arahael noting this called us to order. The hunk of bread was the most delicious thing I had ever eaten, and I could think of was that I wanted more, but like my fellows I reluctantly obeyed his call and we formed up as best we could, ragged and filthy. I stood at his side as the horsemen approached, and with a jolt knew one of them to be Lord Berthedir. The lead horseman who rode ahead of him was young, and clad in fine tooled armour like the rest of his party and I felt that I had seen his face somewhere before, but could not remember where. They halted before us, and another of their party who I did not know called out in a clear voice. “Brave men of Northford, you are in the presence of Prince Eldir of Rhudaur, to your knees”. And to a man we did as we were bid.


	53. Chapter 53

Once the walls had been breached the fate of the army of Angmar in Northford was sealed, and though they fought stoutly they were soon surrounded and overwhelmed. The West Gate was also taken by storm and the battle soon became a one sided slaughter. None of the Northmen trapped within the walls lived to carry the tale back across the Ford. Berthedir and his ilk had shown little mercy to their own countrymen, so there was no reason to expect our foe to fare any better, however the idea of putting to death men who had surrendered and laid down their arms still made me feel uneasy, whoever they might be.

For our own part we could have no complaint. The Prince greeted us with courtesy and bid us rise and be at our ease. He praised us for our courage and fortitude and ordered that men should be sent to the Keep to render aid to those who remained there, notably Lord Berenion, so that they might be brought out of the town to the camp on the South Road to be fed and have their hurts tended to. He moved on into the carnage and ruined remains of the town surrounded by his retinue and we were left to make our way back around the walls to the camp. It was another fine summer’s day, and I was already feeling the benefit of having eaten something wholesome at long last, and though I was deathly weary I felt glad to be alive. Signs of the aftermath of the battle were everywhere, but I had seen so much death now that it made little impression on me, even when we reached the North Gate and saw the corpses of the Northmen lying thick as autumn leaves within where they had made their last stand. 

The day was hot and I was filthy, and as we passed the broken gate in the defensive rampart at the ford I was suddenly filled with an urge to strike out across the jumble of boulders, gravel banks and narrow channels and bathe in the cold clean water of the river again like I had so often done as a child. I made my excuses to my fellows, but when they heard what I proposed to do many declared that they wished to join me, and soon a number of us were striking out through the cold clean water towards the deeper channels in the centre of the riverbed. It seemed I was not the only one who had been so minded for we passed many other hot and weary soldiers who were bathing or cleaning their gear on the shingle banks, and there was room enough for all . We finally came over a bank to a channel that was at least chest deep and I stopped, slowly stripped off all my gear and clothing and strode gratefully into the cold deep water and felt the strong push of the current. The initial shock of it took my breath away, but once I was in the water experienced a great feeling of wellbeing, the woes of the wide world around me disappeared for a moment and it was as if I was a young boy again, playing at being a fish. I pushed against the current as best I could so that I should not be taken too far downstream and surfaced spluttering and gasping happily as my fellows leapt and splashed in the water all around. Then I caught sight of the the ruins on the far bank on the one hand, and the greater and more grotesque ruins of Northford proper on the other where I had been used to seeing the town whole, and the momentary spell was broken. I was also becoming excessively chilled, most likely as a result of my hunger and weakness, and quickly made my way back out of the water and onto the shingle bank and lay on the warm stones in the heat of the sun. We were all pitifully thin, all ribs and angles, and I wondered how we had managed to fight a battle in such a poor state.

After a little while the initial joy of having escaped the siege and still being alive was overtaken by thoughts of all those who had not been so fortunate, and the need to make our way to the camp to obtain more food. I, like many of my fellows had taken advantage of the situation after bathing and washed my gear and undergarments as best I could in the river, leaving them to dry on the rocks in the sun. We dressed quickly and began to make our way back across the ford and joined the tide of men streaming back along the walls towards the camp on the South Road. It was a vast settlement, larger than any I had seen before, and it was hard to believe that it had only been there since the day before. Men came and went in great numbers, and the air was thick with the smoke of cooking fires, shouted orders and curses, and here and there the cries of wounded and dying men. When we got to the road we found large numbers of townsfolk who had come down from the Keep queuing patiently to receive small rations of bread and ladles of broth from a couple of wains that had been commandeered for the purpose. We joined them, full of pity for what they had endured, and the uncertain future they now faced with their homes in ruins. The Prince however had been as good as his word so far, and after receiving their first meal they were instructed to disperse themselves through the camp, where the various companies would provide them with further food and drink and whatever other help they could arrange. After receiving our own portions with gratitude we made our way down the road through the throng, seeking the Prince’s camp and hoping we might get some news of Berenion there. In the event a soldier in Lastbridge livery accosted Arahael, and asked him if he was Captain of the Garrison, or if not if he knew where that man might be found. When he confirmed that he was indeed he that was sought he was informed that the Prince wished to speak to him, and we parted. 

As we continued along the road the crowds began to thin a little, and suddenly I saw a face I recognised among the many. My heart leapt, for I could not be mistaken, though he looked a little older and more grizzled than I remembered him. It was none other than Galunir Of Watersmeet, who had been in my squad and who I had promoted to sergeant during the march on High Burgh. He saw us, and halted with a look of concern and sympathy on his face, though it was clear he did not recognise me personally. “You must be Northford Lads, in fact I think I fought alongside some of you when we were posted up here. The Watersmeet camp is just up ahead on the right of the road by the side of the old barn, if you’re looking for some food and somewhere to rest up you will be made most welcome there”. We thanked him, and he made to continue on his errand, but I caught his eye and spoke to him. “Galunir, good to see you again my friend. Do you not know me?” He looked nonplussed, and as well he might, for I was half starved and bearded, but a look of surprise, then disbelief and finally joy crossed his face. “Esteldir? This cannot be! We heard you had fallen in the Shaws, and yet here you stand before me under the sun, albeit somewhat worse for wear. Amongst all the sorrows of battle this is a piece of good news I did not expect!” And with that we embraced warmly, and parted with promises that he would soon return and we would share our stories over a good meal and some ale. Much cheered we made our way into the camp of the Watersmeet Company, and found our welcome every bit as warm as he had promised it would be.

About an hour later I was sat in the sun with the surviving members of my old squad exchanging news and reminiscing when Galunir returned from his errand, accompanied by Arahael and none other than Daeron. They were solemn, but a smile broke out across Daeron’s face when he saw me, and I rose and we embraced strongly. He too looked older and less boyish than when I had last seen him, and was now clad in good plate, but the smile was still the same. “Not all news today is grim, for this is a joy unlooked for! I could scarce take in what Galunir was telling me, but I see that it is true and that you do indeed still walk among us. A great joy indeed, for it is good to see you again my friend”. He placed his hand on my shoulder and a became solemn again. “ I regret that I must be the bearer of ill news however. I regret that Lord Berenion did not live to see the siege lifted. He lies with honour in the Prince’s camp, and will be taken home to be buried with his forefathers. It was a privilege to have served alongside him, for he was the very best of men”. His voice tailed off and I shook my head sadly. “I feared as much, for I spent much time with him ere the end, and weakened by hunger and exhaustion his wound had turned bad. He fell into a an uneasy slumber from which he could not be woken two days since, and I hoped beyond hope that we could get him to a leech in time once the siege had been lifted, but it was not to be. I will miss him, for he was much more than a captain and lord to me in the end, and I owe him much”. I had seen so much death, but this single loss cut me deeply, and tears began to roll unheeded down my cheeks. We went quietly through the camp to Daeron’s tent, each of us thinking of the good friend we had lost.


	54. Chapter 54

Later that evening Arahael and I, along with the Northford men and townsfolk who had accompanied us to the Watersmeet Company’s camp enjoyed our first proper meal for several weeks, a tasty mutton stew cooked in large cauldrons and accompanied by cheese, hard bread and some tasty Lastbridge ale. Humble as it might have been it was one of the finest meals I have ever eaten, and I felt an unfamiliar but very comfortable torpor come over me afterwards, feeling for a little while that perhaps all would be well in the world again after all. We sat around a token fire that had been lit more for light than warmth, as it was another fine summer evening, and listened intently to what had passed since we were last together as the sun sank over the empty forested hills across the river.

There was much interest in what had befallen me after my Company had left me behind in High Burgh, and I did not hold anything back. Daeron looked concerned and warned me that all my old adversaries had marched north and were present in the camp, but agreed that I ought to have nothing to fear from them. Berenion had acted correctly in corroborating my tale and then reenlisting me in his own service. There was surprise too at the strange twist of fate that had reunited me with my mother’s family, and they agreed that I had had no choice in leaving them and making my way back to Northford. Things had got very bad in the Shaws in the last few years, and Ulfred’s fighters had kept High Burgh in a virtual state of siege. However he had made the mistake of overreaching himself and attempted to meet the army of Rhudaur in open battle. The Prince had come up from Bearcliffe with the strongest possible force and won a decisive victory, with the aid of a renegade cousin of Ulfred’s from the south Shaws named Brodir. Ulfred had escaped the field again, along with many of his men, but his power was broken for now. The loyal newcomer had been installed by Eldir and Berthedir as the new Chieftain in High Burgh, and it was said many of the Hill Folk, weary of the fighting and having to pay tribute to maintain Ulfred’s rebellion, had pledged their loyalty to him. Perhaps there was now renewed hope that I might see my family there again now, and I sincerely hoped that this would be the case.

Our companions then listened intently as Arahael recounted how things had been in Northford and what had passed during the siege. He told them of Berenion’s courage and wise leadership in the face of overwhelming odds and the way he had not hesitated to lead the hopeless defence of the wall himself during the first attack as the enemy had poured across the ford. The wound he received there eventually cost him his life, but he had remained clear minded and continued to guide us wisely even as his life ebbed away. He spoke of the fall of the town and the terrible fire that had consumed it, the desperate defence as the Keep was repeatedly assaulted and finally the horror of life under siege. He was too modest by far as to his own part, so it was left to me to tell how Arahael had rallied the men, weak and starving as they were and led the sally that opened the gate and helped break the siege. Our companions exchanged glances and Daeron spoke up. “That explains why the Prince holds you in such high esteem then brother, and rightly so. That was a great deed, and it is clear why he has seen fit to name you as Berenion’s successor.” I sat up, startled at this. “You did not say?” I asked him. “It did not seem appropriate in the circumstances” he replied quietly. “And though I may now be Lord in name, my command will be modest, for I fear that Lastbridge can no longer be defended and must be abandoned. Only the Keep will remain to watch our northern border, and it will be a lonely watch far from help”. He looked at me seriously. “I must ask you two questions Esteldir. Firstly Berenion will begin his final journey home in the morning, and it is fitting that one who served with him and loved him, and was well loved by him should accompany him and see him laid to rest with all due ceremony. Will you do this task for me? Secondly, I now need a Captain to serve as my right hand, and I can think of none more fitted or deserving of that position than you. What say you?” Daeron nodded and smiled, and I had no hesitation in agreeing to both questions. There was a quiet murmur of approval and congratulations and we stood and embraced. Despite the terrible circumstances that had brought me to this point, there was still a small part of me, a remnant of my boyhood perhaps, that was elated at the idea that I had made captain at the age of only twenty two. My father would have been proud indeed, for I had beaten his record by the best part of five years. However I knew that we now lived in very different times to those he had known, and far too many men who might have stood ahead of me in the ranks in better days now lay asleep under the earth.

A little discomfited by that last thought and regretting my childish burst of pride I changed the subject of the discussion and asked Daeron and Galunir to recount all that had passed since we had parted four years since. Galunir went first, and said there was no great tale to be told. After being stood down over winter, they had gone north again with their new captain, Eryndir, and returned to Lastbridge for a spell, resuming their earlier duties patrolling and repairing the East Road. The new captain sat nearby listening and nodded at the mention of his name. I knew him well, for he was a cousin of Túon’s and a man of not dissimilar character and appearance to our old friend, and I thought him a fitting replacement. A spell back in High Burgh had followed, during which they were ambushed and suffered heavy losses, and afterwards as winter approached again they had been stood down, and told not to remobilise again until called for. The King’s coffers were empty once again, and he had far more men under arms than could be kept fed and supplied. So they went back to their homes and families and had remained there until the start of the current campaign. He told us of the march back north, led by the Prince in his gleaming armour, and of the battle at High Burgh. The renegade Hillmen had come late to the battlefield, but their appearance had been decisive, and the additional numbers had persuaded the foe that the day, already in doubt was indeed lost, and they had broken and fled.

For his part Daeron had hastened home after his return to Lastbridge to find his father had died, and that he was now master of the family dominions and its new head. This by custom released him from his army service in all but the most serious circumstances, and he had thrown himself enthusiastically into his new life. Young, handsome and now a man of means, he had caught the eye of the Lord Of Watersmeet‘s daughter, and they had been wed nearly two years. He had recently become the father of a fine baby boy, and in time would inherit the title and duties from his wife’s father too. I thought such good fortune could not have come to a better man, and said so, and wished him a speedy return to his family. He smiled, and said he did not doubt that it would be the case, since Lastbridge could not maintain such a large host for long in the field. Indeed little if any allowance had been made for the garrison or starving townsfolk in the supplies that had been brought north, and it would only be a matter of days before they were gone. The march south would have to commence soon, else we would all go hungry again, and it was very much to be hoped that no relief force was on its way down through the vales from Angmar to delay it. But before all else the heavy task of clearing the battlefield and burying the dead would have to be faced, and I for one was glad my duty to Berenion meant I it was likely that I would play no part in it.

Eventually the fire, and our conversation with it burned low and we retreated into our private thoughts under a beautiful starlit sky. It was not long before sleep overtook me, exhausted and replete as I was, and I was grateful for the oblivion it brought. Too many things had happened to me in too short a space of time, and for the moment I could no longer take it all in.


	55. Chapter 55

It was dawn when we awoke to the urgent blaring of horns, and for an umpleasant moment I thought I was still under siege in the Keep, on the roof of the tower and the day before had all been a wishful dream. The air had grown hot and still in the night, and dark clouds, heavy with the promise of rain and thunder had crept over the stars as we slept and blotted them out. By the time I had realised where I truly was and what had befallen me the whole camp was in uproar and men were hastily throwing on their gear and forming up. Daeron and Galunir had already gone, but Eryndir came striding past, buckling up his sword belt as he went and when he saw Arahael and I reaching for our own gear he shook his head and gestured for us to remain where we were. “This is not your fight today, remain at your ease. A force has indeed come south from Angmar, but I daresay that unless they are great in number then they have come too late and will not cross the ford to face us”. 

And so it proved, our sentries on the wall at the ford had sighted many men gathered in the pre dawn gloom on the far bank and had raised the alarm. But by the time the camp had mobilised and our host had formed up ready to face them they had melted away, no doubt unmanned by our far greater numbers. It was not long before the soldiers came back, disgruntled and disappointed at the false alarm. Some of the captains had pleaded to be allowed to cross the river and mount a pursuit, but they had been overruled, those in command knew time was of the essence, and the army’s stay in the north could not be prolonged for what might turn out to be a vain pursuit, or worse still another trap.

Though still very early, there was now little hope of getting any more sleep, so we rose and joined the returning soldiers of the company in queuing up at the quartermaster’s tent for our breakfast ration. I stood with Arahael, and some of our other men who had joined us, but spoke little, our mood reflecting the gloomy overcast above. I knew I was being asked to carry out a noble duty, and was honoured to have been asked to do so, but at that moment I did not want to leave them. We had been through so much together, and there was more to come, for once the dead had been buried the burden of clearing the keep and restoring it to some kind of order would surely fall on them as well. I promised myself that I would not tarry, but it would be a long journey to Berenion’s family home in the hills above Elford. He had often spoken to me of the place during our long discussions together, and in my minds eye it was now the same as my family home in Rushwater Vale would have been. He knew I had spent a Yule with Daeron, and often jested that I should do the same with him now that he commanded me, but that would never happen now.

After we had eaten, and under a sky that was growing darker and more menacing by the hour I parted from my fellows with words of solidarity and hope and made my way to the Prince’s encampment, where I was given a cloak and surcoat in better repair than those I currently wore, and taken to the covered wagon that bore Berenion’s body. It lay well wrapped amongst the stores for the journey, and a guard of men from his local company stood close by, ready to commence their march home. I was received politely and fell in with the sergeant, another man I remembered well, and after we had set off we passed the early part of the march reminiscing about the fights we had been in together. But we had not gone far when my weakness began to tell on me, and I was forced to climb onto the wagon alongside the driver, for despite my mortification at this indignity my companions appeared sympathetic. Once again I found myself on a cart taking a body for burial, and as we passed the entrance to Rushwater Vale on the far bank later that morning I was reminded of that sunny day so many years before when we had taken my grandfather to be buried. So much had changed though, the body that lay behind me was only a source of sadness now, not fear, for I had seen death in all its guises. And I was strongly reminded of the kindness and nobility of Angon too at that moment, and my previous anger towards him subsided considerably. I thought I might try and see him again now if the opportunity presented itself when we passed through Lastbridge. 

It began to rain at last, great fat drops splashing on the dry ground, but then stopped as abruptly as it had started, and the still, close air returned. I thought that there must be a huge thunderstorm on the way, and hoped that we could find shelter before it arrived. A little further down the road a fresh burial mound stood in the meadow off to the right towards the river. I remembered with a pang that Huron and a good few of his men had become cut off during the battle and been forced to flee down the South Road. It seemed that their journey had ended here, and I was forced to ponder once again on the small chances and misfortunes that made the difference between life and death. I had barely made it back to the relative safety of the gate myself, and could so very easily have ended up sharing their fate. 

It was mid afternoon when the storm finally broke in earnest, and I was woken from my fitful sleep by a colossal clap of thunder. This was soon followed by more lightning and a tremendous downpour. It made the remainder of our journey that day a miserable affair, but it would have been as nothing compared to those I had left behind in Northford trying to dig pits and collect the bodies of the fallen would be enduring. There were also the townsfolk to consider, most of them out in the open with little more than the clothes they stood up in. I felt for their plight, for if Arahael’s prediction was true and Northford was to be abandoned then many of them now faced a very uncertain future. It would be bad enough for those with family or relations to turn to further south, but those without would be trying to make their way in towns whose streets were already full of the hungry and destitute. Too many souls had already been displaced from their homes by the long war, lost their livelihoods or been badly wounded and paid off by the army. There had always been a few in every town for as long as I could remember, but now every time I had visited Bearcliffe there seemed to be more and more, and they were no longer obvious hard luck cases but ordinary everyday folk who had fled the fighting or been thrown off their holdings because they could no longer pay the ever increasing tithes and taxes to their masters, who in turn could not meet the ever increasing demands of their increasingly impoverished rulers.

I pondered on this sad state of affairs wrapped in my cloak and partially sheltered on the bench of the wain alongside the driver, watching the steam rise from the slick coats of the sturdy little horses pulling us. The men marching alongside were much less fortunate, and we were all very grateful when the rain finally gave way to watery sunshine a few hours later. We had made good time and had reached the relative safety of the ruined way station, for a supply train of wains with an escort travelling north were already setting up camp there when we arrived. I was relieved that there would be no need to take a turn on night watch now, and we exchanged news with our new neighbours, who had heard the result of the battle from despatch riders but were keen to hear about it greater detail. I helped the taciturn carter settle the horses and then made my excuses and retired for the night, falling into a deep asleep almost immediately.

The following day’s journey passed uneventfully, and we reached Bearcliffe as the sun was dropping in the sky. The place bustled as usual, and as I had feared there seemed to be more ragged and hungry souls than ever lining the gutters, many of them pleading for coin. I felt guilty, as my scrip contained some of the unspent soldier’s stipend that I had had the good fortune or lack of good sense to carry with me into battle. It would doubtless have turned into someone else’s luck had I been killed, but there was certainly enough in it to keep a large family fed for a several days. Hardening my heart against them, I avoided their pleading eyes and reasoned that they had not been starved and narrowly avoided death as I had, so I had earned what I carried. Due to the nature of our errand we were permitted to spend the night in the Keep for a change, and I once again noted how similar a place it was to our own, although a little older and in a more dramatic setting. The climb up to it was just as steep for the cart though.

The rest of the journey to Lastbridge passed without incident, but we were constantly asked for new of the latest battle, and tell what we knew of the prowess of the Prince to those we met along the way. The reappearance of royal blood on a battlefield, and the raising of such a great host after so many years had clearly inspired much pride and admiration. I had hoped I might get the opportunity to spend an evening in Lastbridge, for obvious reasons, but in the event we arrived there at noon, and the men, keen to return to their homes and also to lay their Lord, whose remains were evidently and unavoidably in increasingly poor condition in the back of the wagon, to rest as soon as possible. So we entered under the mighty walls and made our way through the crush in the streets and squares, and I looked wistfully up at the vast sprawling fortress and citadel up on the crag as we passed along the road below. I wondered if Angon still lived and went about his business within those walls, and how I would truly feel if I were to meet him again. Then we passed out through the East Gate, and our journey continued into a part of the country I had never seen before.


	56. Chapter 56

The town of Elford where we were bound lay on the Loudwater on the eastern border sof Rhudaur, some 25 leagues distant and four days march from Lastbridge. As the name suggested, it stood where the Great East Road forded the river, and beyond it lay lands which had never been part of the greater kingdom of Arnor, but rather fell under the protection of the Elf Lord of Rivendell. Any dealings there might have been with that realm in ancient times had long ceased, and instead there were many rumours and fantastical tales and and a good deal of mistrust. However there were inns in every town along that road that were occasionally frequented by travellers from that realm, but as in Lastbridge they kept their own counsel and had as few dealings with us as possible. 

The road itself, like the bridge that took it across the Hoarwell, was of immense age and marvellous construction, wide enough for two fully laden wagons to pass with ease and smoothly paved, even after we had left Lastbridge. Unlike the North Road it ran more or less straight and true, almost disregarding the rise and fall of the land, and here and there it had carved its way through hills that stood in its path, or where the land dropped away rode across it on mighty earthworks. As a result we made very good time and were no longer hindered by other travellers, and the mood of the Carter improved. After a journey where he had spoken with me little more than absolutely necessary he gradually became more talkative. Fradur was his name and he hailed from Greenwood, which lay ahead on our road, and once he began to talk it was like a dam had been released. I did not mind, for he had travelled widely and was no fool, and amongst the chatter there was much of interest to me, especially regarding the doings of the nobility in Lastbridge. He in turn was interested in what had passed in the north during the battles and the siege, and I was in no doubt that whatever I recounted to him would soon be currency in many taverns before the year was out. I made sure I painted the man who slept in the cart behind us in the most heroic terms possible.

There were many small settlements and villages along the road, and like the land that lay between Lastbridge and Watersmeet there was an air of peace and prosperity here, for it had never been touched by war. The country was steep and hilly, for we were effectively still in the Southern Shaws, but the writ of the King in Lastbridge ran here. Nonetheless many of the inhabitants we passed on the road were clearly of Hillman stock and I wondered where their loyalties lay. Despite the sad nature of our journey I could not help but begin to enjoy it a little, for the weather was now pleasant and any risk of ambush long past and it pleased me greatly to see these new lands. We spent the night at an Inn, before making good time again the following day and reaching Greenwood by mid afternoon. It was a smaller than Northford, surrounded by open farmland and steep wooded hills and had a small keep set well back from the road overlooking the town. I remembered Berthedir and his kin were masters in this land, and thought that I must be looking at their home. I thought of poor Maelith, who had lived in a very similar town not so far to the north, and what he had seen done to her home and family.

We spent the night there in another larger inn, and once again attracted another large audience keen to learn of what had passed at Northford, for news of the victory at High Burgh had already reached them. None spoke ill of their Lord, but I detected caution and a little fear in some of what they said, so it was clear he was a man more feared than loved there at home too. We resumed our journey in the morning, and found the country beyond Greenwood wilder and the farms and settlements dwindled. The land grew steeper and though the road still ran more or less true hills that slowed our progress became more frequent. On our right hand the land fell away towards the lowlands between the two rivers, and ahead in the distance the bulk of the foothills of the Misty Mountains loomed. We found a pleasant spot by the road and camped on the last night of our journey, with soldiers who were all in good spirits, for the following day would see them home and back with their families. The sergeant ordered a cask of ale opened and we drank to all those who would not return, and to the Lord they had escorted home to his final resting place.

At noon the following day we passed through a particularly impressive cutting through the same rock of pinkish hue that Watersmeet was built of, and soon afterwards came to the top of a long hill that led down into the vale of the Loudwater. On the plain below, the road continued to run straight and true through a plain dotted with farms and patches of woodland, and at the end of it where the river ran and the land began to rise steeply again beyond, stood the town of Elford. Somewhere amongst the tall ranks of wild hills beyond, standing against the distant lofty summits of the mountains lay the hidden Elf Hold. The very thought of it filled me with a strange excitement, and I wished that I could go there and speak to them and see the wonders it held.

My thoughts were soon brought back to more immediate matters, for our approach had been noted and by the time we reached the town crowds had gathered to meet us, and the garrison had formed up as a guard of honour. The joy of seeing some of their husbands and sons returned was tempered by the news of Berenion’s death, but he had spent little time there in recent years, and many only knew of him by name. His family lived in a great house an hour’s march up the vale from the town, and I readied myself for the task of bearing the tidings of his death to them. I told the sergeant that I would not hold the men to the duty of accompanying us on the last part of the journey if they wanted to depart with their loved ones. He put it to them, and I was heartened when all of them to a man insisted on seeing Berenion home, and we were joined by the men of the garrison and their captain. I had recovered somewhat on the journey, walking a little further each day, and now I walked at the head of our solemn file with the captain and sergeant through the heat of a late summer afternoon, along a road that reminded me a good deal of the abandoned roads in the vales back home.

The house too, was uncannily similar, and was just as Berenion had described it, built stoutly on four sides with an arch and gate around a central courtyard. As we approached through the meadows, the members of the household poured out through the archway and stood in front of the gate waiting for us to arrive. I gathered myself up to break the sad news to the family gathered there, and saw a tall well dressed woman with elegant features who could only be his sister sobbing, anticipating what I was about to tell her. The presence of the wagon and so many men at arms could only mean one thing. I signalled for the column to halt and stepped forward.

“My Lady Lenthel, I must bring you the saddest tidings, for your brother, the Lord Berenion of Northford is fallen, and we have brought him home to lie with his fathers. He was the finest and bravest of men, and died of wounds sustained in battle fighting against bravely and fiercely against overwhelming odds. All who knew him honoured and revered him, and I was proud to serve under him”. The woman began to weep uncontrollably, and others around her, also weeping, gathered around her to comfort her. The man who had been standing next to her, who I judged must be her husband, and who Berenion had taken a strong dislike to took charge of the situation and replied. He was a Hillman from the look of him, once handsome but now long gone to seed with the sour expression of one who considered himself hard done by. “So it has come to pass. I fear he is overdue for the earth if you have brought him so far, let the thing be done now without delay. He bore me no love, so I leave the duty to you to discharge as you see fit”. I was taken aback by this dismissal, for as I understood it he was now master of the family holdings by marriage, and it should have been him who laid his brother by marriage to rest, regardless of any ill feeling between them.

But I did not shirk the duty which had been placed upon me. I thanked the soldiers who had accompanied us from the town for their honouring of Berenion and released them from their service, unless any wished to remain. Those who had marched with me from Northford bore the body reverently from the wagon, and I asked the weeping Lady to guide us to the burial ground. Once there I set to with the others and we dug his grave as the sun began to sink into the west. When all was ready I spoke of our departed brother, of his qualities and the life he had led, and then I said the formal words of departure and we laid him in the earth. I was one of the youngest there, but had already performed the same duty for countless men I had lost in forest clearings and on bare hillsides, and I felt I did him justice nonetheless. And when all was done the Lady implored me to remain there as a guest under her roof for the night, and I dismissed the remainder of my companions, wishing them a joyful return to their families. I was weary now, but glad that I had been able to do what I had done for the man who had given me another chance and become my guide and true friend.


	57. Chapter 57

I was shown into the house and taken to a guest room by a maidservant where I was able to wash off the dirt and dust of the journey and the burial and make myself more presentable for the table. The place fascinated me, for it was built very much on the same pattern and I could almost have imagined myself in the family home in Rushwater Vale as it once might have been. I had been amongst those ruins many times, and knew how the place was laid out, and the house I now found myself in was of a kind. The idea filled me with a surprisingly sharp pang of longing and loss, and a little bitterness too.

The maidservant called for me and I followed her to the main room where the meal was to be eaten, but as we approached I could hear a man shouting angrily, and a woman pleading and weeping. I instinctively bunched my fists on hearing this, but my guide showed no emotion at all and I thought it safest not to press her on the matter. Perhaps this was a routine occurrence in this house. When we entered order had been restored, but it was clear from her eyes that Lenthel had indeed been weeping again, and my arrival was greeted with obvious displeasure by her husband Deleric. “I see that you were invited by my wife to be our guest without my leave, and I tell you that you and your kind are not welcome here. But I will suffer your presence for her sake for this night only and in the morning you will depart and never return. This is my house now in name and by law, and my word will stand here, see that it shall!” The last was directed at his crestfallen wife, for this was a gross breach of manners and would have filled her with shame. For my part I said nothing but acknowledged his words with a curt nod. The cook brought the first course of the meal in along with a jug of ale and all was set on the table and our goblets filled. Out of habit I excused myself and stood, and facing west observed the traditional moment’s silence. Fixing me with a look that contained sadness and a little defiance, Lenthel rose too and did likewise. Deleric said nothing but quaffed his ale noisily, smashed it back down onto the table and seizing the pitcher poured himself another, spilling it as his hands trembled with rage at his wife’s apparent insolence. 

He had once clearly been a handsome man, and had an air of intelligence about him, but his good looks were long run to seed through an excessive love of ale and his quick wits were turned to spite and cruelty. Berenion had often spoken about the way he had wooed his sister during his long absences away on duty, he thought only with an eye on the holdings he stood to gain control of should the brother come to grief. Perhaps they had been happy once, but it was not long before his true character had come to the fore, made worse by the large amounts of ale he constantly imbibed. Berenion and he were often at daggers drawn, but the sister had always intervened on the husband’s behalf. He was full of guilt and regret for what had happened and the way he had allowed his devotion to duty and ambition to take him away from his home and leave his sister vulnerable and unprotected. I thought on all of this and observed the two of them as we ate in an uncomfortable silence.

Deleric sank another flagon and belched loudly. Ignoring her husband’s coarse manners, Lenthel gathered up her courage and broke her silence to ask me to speak of her brother and the times I had shared with him in a querulous voice. I met her eyes and before her husband could interrupt began to tell her about the first time I had seen him as a boy of sixteen, and how he had changed the path of my life by assigning me to a southern company. I told her how his reputation for being a severe and pedantic captain belied a man with a strong sense of justice and compassion, who could win over his opponents and rivals and inspire them with his leadership. Deleric spat on the floor at this unable to contain himself any longer, and interrupted me loudly. “He was a stiff necked fool who got what he deserved”. He narrowed his eyes and held my appalled stare, full of contempt, like an ale sodden pig, challenging me. Guest or no, I could contain myself no longer, and I felt a furious rage take hold of me. “Silence!” I roared, rising from my seat and smashing my fist down on the board in turn. He rose too, leaning towards me until we were staring into each other’s faces and I could smell his foul ale sodden breath. “How dare you address me so under my own roof? Out! Now!” But I held his stare unflinching and saw him quail a little. “ I am the Lady’s guest, and her brother who was my captain and true friend lies not a day in the ground, and you dare to speak of him in such terms?” Emboldened by my words Lenthel spoke up. “Deleric, husband mine, please let it be, this day of all days. I am sure Captain Esteldir spoke in haste and weariness only, please let us all be seated once more”.

But Deleric was enraged by her further insolence, and spinning away from me and around the table launched himself with a practiced hand and struck Lenthel with such force that she was knocked from her chair, and fell to the flagstones with a shriek. He stood over her and raised his hand for a second blow, but I was already vaulting across the table and caught his hand before he could land the blow. I twisted his arm back and hurled him against the tapestry clad wall and he fell heavily, momentarily stunned. As I turned to attend to Lenthel who lay on the ground, he climbed to his feet and with a furious bellow drew a dagger from his belt and charged me. I saw the blow coming just in time and managed to turn it, and though he was heavier than I, and strong for his age I was an experienced soldier in my prime and even unarmed he was no match for me. This last act of his was more than I could bear, and overcome by a furious rage I disarmed him, threw him down and drove his knife deep between his ribs three times, and he died gasping in a pool of his own blood.

I yelled for the servants to come, and they burst in, the maidservant letting out a scream when she saw what had happened. I barked “attend to your mistress” and they helped her up and took her away to her chamber, stunned and pale and dripping blood herself from a cut to the head. The male servants who remained looked at me fearfully, but I showed them I bore no weapons and told them they had nothing to fear from me. “Send at once for the Captain in the town, for I have slain your master under his own roof and must face his justice. I picked up a fallen chair and sat down on it heavily, feeling angry that circumstances had once again conspired against me. One of the men promptly left, but it would be at least an hour or more before anyone would come back. I contemplated fleeing from my perilous situation, but now my choices were even narrower. It might be possible to cross the river into the wilderness to the east, but what then? I could expect no help from the elves, and all other roads south, west and north were closed to me. I decided that if indeed death was coming again then at least I would have it quick and clean. I sighed, righted a flagon on the table, refilled it from the pitcher which had somehow remained upright during the struggle, sighed and took a long deep draught.


	58. Chapter 58

I remained where I was, keeping vigil over my dead host until the Captain and his guard arrived at the house, and were shown into the chamber by the servant who had fetched him. I put down the empty flagon I had been nursing and got to my feet. He surveyed the candlelit scene before him and shook his head. “What has passed here?” I gave him my account of what had been said and done, and he ordered his men to remain with me whilst he went to seek the lady of the house. I sat back down, and the men watched me impassively, though I had no doubt they were hoping everything would be concluded as soon as possible so they could get back to their beds. I too felt deathly tired now, and would have given anything to have been able to lie down and go to sleep. 

A few minutes later the Captain re-entered the room, his broad intelligent face wearing a thoughtful look. “Captain Esteldir of Northford, you have tonight taken the life of a man under his own roof whilst partaking of his hospitality, which is a grievous crime by all the laws and norms of this land. You well know the consequences of committing such an act”. He paused, and I nodded my head in acknowledgement before he continued. “However, I have spoken to Mistress Lenneth, the dead man’s wife, and she says you were unarmed, and that you were attacked from behind as you went to her aid. In such circumstances a reasonable claim of self defence can be made, and the act pardoned. Find Deleric’s manservant and bring him here”. One of his men did as he was bid and the servant came in, looking worried. The captain stooped over his dead master’s body and withdrew the ornate blade, holding it delicately by the pommel. “Whose blade is this, do you know it?” The man did not hesitate. “Aye, ‘tis my poor dead master’s, murdered by this man’s hand”. He looked angrily at me, shaking with rage and close to tears, but the captain remained impassive. “Killed by his hand, but in a reasonable act of self defence. For the man you accuse bore no weapon himself, and the lady corroborates his tale. I fear your former master let ale and temper get the better of him once too often”. The servant looked aghast, uttered a cry and spinning on his heels fled from the room.

I could barely take in what was happening, for I had not dared hope for any other outcome than the blackest possible. “You are free to go, but I would not tarry if I were you, for Deleric was a popular man in some quarters despite his fondness for ale, and many of those he counted as friends acknowledge chieftain rather than king as their rightful ruler. My writ does not always run far outside the walls of the town out here at the edge of things”. Weary as I was I took his warning seriously, and I immediately went back to my room to gather my things and leave. As I filled my pack the maidservant appeared in the open doorway and handed me a cloth full of food for my journey. I thanked her warmly and asked her if I could see her mistress before I went, and when I was done she took me upstairs to her chamber. Lenneth was sat up in bed in her shift, looking pale but unbowed. One of her eyes was blackening and there was a bandage on her brow, but she gave me a wan smile. “My lady, I thank you with all my heart, for your words to the captain have without doubt saved my life this night”. She shook her head. “No, it is you who have saved mine, for he who lies dead below would have taken it eventually, for it had become of little worth. Now at least I have a chance, though the future is uncertain for all of us. Come…”. I went to the bed and sat down on the edge of it and took her in my arms, where she remained quiet for a moment before breaking down with a series of great racking sobs. After a while she mastered herself again, withdrew and looked at me with dark eyes so much like her brother’s and whispered “may the Valar protect you my child”. Then she kissed my brow and we parted.

I left her, full of sadness and worry about what the future might hold for her now, and also in some concern for my own safety, for I would need to put as many miles as possible between myself and any possible pursuit before morning. The captain and his men were waiting for me in the courtyard, but as I left the maidservant met me in the doorway, and surprised me by speaking freely for the first time. “I thank you for what you did tonight, for my mistress’ sake and mine own too”. There was something I could not read in her eyes as she said this, but before I could answer she turned and went back down the passageway. I joined the captain and his small company out in the night and we set off back towards the town.

Fortunately for me the moon was full that night and cast a good light, and after we had been walking for about half an hour the captain pointed out two wooded ridges visible off in the distance to our right hand that rose up, one behind the other. He told me to aim for them and crest them, and if I maintained my course thereafter I would come at last back to the East Road. I thanked him from the bottom of my heart, wished him and his men well and struck off across country, which was a mixture of meadow and copse to begin with. I made good progress at first, but then the moon began to set behind the second ridge and I found myself in deep shadow. Not only that but the ground was now growing steep and rocky and my progress slowed to a crawl. The irony of my situation was not lost on me, for once again I found myself alone at night and climbing ridges in the Shaws, but I reached the first crest more quickly than I expected. The moon still illuminated the downhill slope on the other side for a good distance and so I pressed on again until weariness and darkness finally forced a stop, so I found myself as good a hiding place as I could contrive and lay down to sleep a little. At first my mind raced with all the events of the previous day, but not for long, and I slept deeply for a while.

I was woken by the crack of a twig, and rose in alarm drawing my sword as I did so, but nobody came forward. I eventually concluded that it must have been a forest animal that had disturbed me and sheathed my blade. The cold grey light of dawn showed that my hiding place had actually been no hiding place at all, but it did not matter now. I quickly ate a small meal and set off again across a barren stony valley floor dotted with pines and began to climb up to the top of the second ridge. It took me a good hour or two to reach it and the going was steep and difficult, but the view from the top when I reached it was splendid. Ahead and to my right hand the ridges and summits of the Southern Shaws marched off into the distance, rank upon rank, and I was reminded vividly of the last time I had seen such a sight, though the land had been cold and white then. On my left hand the land dropped away down towards the plains in the south, and the line of the road could be glimpsed here and there in that direction which heartened me considerably. At my back the misty mountains rose, as close as I had ever seen them, but still fifteen to twenty leagues distant, a mighty wall marching across the horizon. Before them lay great uplands riven by deep valleys, and somewhere amongst those hills lay the settlement of the elven folk that no man had ever seen. But I had no time to ponder for long upon such things and quickly resumed my journey, striking off downhill towards the road.

I must have been nigh on noon by the time I scrambled cautiously down a bank and seeing nobody ahead or behind on the road stepped with some relief back onto its smooth paved surface. The captain’s advice had been good, for I found myself already some distance from Elford, and so far there was no sign of any pursuit. I walked for the rest of the day, constantly glancing over my shoulder, but the only traffic I encountered were carts coming in the other direction. I left the road as soon as I glimpsed them, and where I could cut across country to avoid them. It was not always possible however due to the steepness of the ground, and I was twice forced to hide for considerable lengths of time and lose valuable daylight waiting for them to pass. The second time I actually fell asleep, and must have slept for some considerable time because when I awoke the shadows were already beginning to lengthen and I was very hungry. I cursed, and ate some more of my rations, but before I set off I heard the sound of hooves on the road and the rumbling of yet another cart. I cursed again, for this meant yet more skulking in the bushes when haste was needed.

But when I saw the cart my mood changed completely, for it was none other than Fradur, who was making his way home from Elford to Greenwood, and I gave a cry of greeting and burst out of the foliage at the roadside. He dropped the reins and leapt to his feet, drawing a cudgel from the behind him as he did so, but his alarm and surprise were soon replaced by puzzlement as to what I was doing there out in the wild. I told him it was a long story, and asked if he would mind bearing me as a passenger once again, which he assented to without hesitation. Though there was rarely ever any trouble on the road in those parts and it was not unusual for people to travel alone on it, you couldn’t take anything for granted any more and the company of a well armed man was always going to be welcome. I climbed gratefully into the back and settled myself down out of sight amongst the load of goods he was carrying back from Elford and eventually the rumbling of the cart and all my exertions had me drifting off to sleep once again. In fact Fradur made camp for the night and thoughtfully left me where I was, and I slept right through until the following morning, when I awoke stiff and cramped but quite refreshed.


	59. Chapter 59

The remainder of the journey to Greenwood passed pleasantly and without incident, there was little traffic on the road and it seemed unlikely that anyone would have gone to the effort to pursue me so far west. I was still vigilant however, and climbed into the back of the cart whenever we spied anyone coming the other way. I told Fradur the full tale of what had befallen me, and he shook his head. “That man was well known in the inns at Elford, a braggart and often drunk. I did not like him, and you were not the first he provoked, far from it, but he bit more off than he could manage when he crossed you”. He laughed grimly at this, and added “these roads are safe enough for the most part, but it is a comfort to have you at my side”. I clapped him on the back and replied. “It may be a comfort to you, but it is not a comfort to my ears to be stuck in your cart, for your tongue is far quicker than your pony!” We both laughed heartily and then fell into a companionable silence.

When we reached Greenwood I was offered and accepted the hospitality of Fradur’s home for the night. It was a humble enough place, with a yard and stables close to the west gate of the town, but I was given a warm welcome by his family and numerous children. His wife was if anything even more voluble than he, and I was deluged with questions on every subject as we sat eating a hearty stew whilst children and dogs careened around our feet. Eventually I pleaded weariness, and though they offered me a bed I saw it would put them to great inconvenience and insisted on sleeping in the hayloft, which gave me both comfort and welcome quiet. I envied the happy chaos and warm companionship they all shared, for a family life of any kind was only a poignant and distant memory for me now.

I thought that I would be making the onward journey alone and on foot, but it turned out that Fradur’s next journey was taking him back to Lastbridge with a load of sheepskins for a merchant there. I decided to remain with him, and as a result we did not start our journey till late morning when he had picked up his load. I bid a fond and friendly farewell to his wife, children and dogs and we set off, under a sky that threatened long awaited rain. It was cooler too and the trees were beginning to hint at the arrival of autumn. The weather finally broke by mid afternoon and the rain set in for the night, which meant a fire was out of the question and a night under cover in the wagon necessary. It was still raining when we arrived in Lastbridge the following afternoon, and after we had cleared the East Gate I pondered leaving my travelling companion and making my way up to the fortress. However nobody expected me there, my time was my own and I still had coin in my scrip, so I decided to accept Fradur’s invotation to join him at his customary inn and ply him with ale in recompense for carrying me most of the way down the East Road.

My memories of that night are hazy, but good. The place was full of soldiers freshly returned from the campaign in the north and on their way home, glad to have survived and keen to enjoy themselves. When it became known who I was many of them insisted on plying me with ale too. We exchanged ribald tales and sang songs as soldiers did until I could barely stand, and then Fradur saw me safely up the stairs to my cot. He rose early to see to his pony the next morning and prepare to collect a return load back to Greenwood, so I bid him a bleary but warm and heartfelt farewell. I did not see him again after that, but I have never forgotten his kindness to me.

It was nearly noon by the time I broke my fast and left the inn, setting out on the short journey through the crowded streets towards the fortress. Shortly after I left the main square and joined the East Road I heard shouts behind me and the throng began to part to let a company of soldiers through. I too stood aside, and then hefted my pack and fell in behind them as their rearguard passed. They were one of the final companies of Lastbridge soldiers to return from the north, and were headed the same way as I was. The men in the rearmost ranks looked at me curiously but did not challenge me and after climbing the ramp to the main gatehouse I broke away and declared myself to the guards, asking where I might find a billet for the night and if there was any traffic going north that I could join up with. I had to wait for the best part of two hours there before a reply came but in the end I was told that an escort detail for a wagon train to Bearcliffe would be departing from the Fortress the following morning and I would be welcome to join them. I was taken to one of the draughty halls used to billet visiting men and introduced to the sergeant in charge of the detachment. He had no objection to my intended plan and I found myself a spot with his men for my gear, before tidying myself up as best I could and heading back out into the great cobbled courtyard where I headed for the gates of the Citadel.

The smartly liveried guards at the gate paid me noticeably more attention this time now I carried the badge of rank of a captain, and when I enquired as to the whereabouts of Angon of Northford I was shown into the guardhouse and a man was sent to make enquiries of the King’s Household. This at least was a good first step, since it was clear Angon was still very much alive. Eventually the soldier returned with a servant, who told me that Angon was presently to be found in his customary place in the Royal Library. He asked me who I was and what my business was, so I gave him my name and rank and told him I was an old family friend, come to look in on him. The man was kindly enough but a little simple, and invited me to follow him. I departed, thanking the guards, and we made our way up the wide cobbled way for a short distance before turning off up some broad steps and entered a long corridor through studded oaken doors of great age.

The place was clearly in better repair than the rest of the fortress, but there was still a general air of neglect and dilapidation about the place and I saw very few other people as we passed along the echoing corridors and galleries and up and down various flights of steps. It was clear that this part was just as difficult to navigate as the rest, but my guide kept up something of a running commentary as we went along, pointing out the directions to various places of importance as we passed. At one point we came upon a great tapestry lining the wall of a long corridor showing the life and deeds of some long forgotten king. It put anything there was in Northford Keep to shame with its scale and magnificent workmanship and fair took my breath away with its beauty and detailing. I was compelled to stop and admire it, but the servant could not tell me who it was made in honour of or how old it might be, and despite its age and beauty closer inspection showed that it was rotting and crumbling in places, covered in dust and obviously little regarded.

After what seemed like an eternity of corridors and passages we finally arrived outside another large set of doors with “The Library of the King” embossed in sindarin runes on them. The servant knocked, and opened the heavy creaking door into a large chamber, filled with rows of shelves stacked high with great leathern volumes with tooled spines and thick bundles of bound scrolls. An old man and a women were stood at a lectern by a window where they had been poring over one of the books, and they both turned in surprise to look at the interruption. “Master Angon, there is a Captain of Northford here who wishes to speak with you”. The old man came forward, and gave a cry of joy when he recognised me. “Of all the glad tidings this is the least expected and most hoped for, for we heard you did not return from High Burgh and feared the worst. Oh what a happy day this is, for I never thought to see you again. And captain too!” With this he came forward to embrace me strongly, and when I saw him close to, and saw the love he bore for me and how frail he had become in the intervening five years since I had last seen him, any bitterness I felt towards him fell away and I greeted him warmly in return.


	60. Chapter 60

Angon’s craggy face was now heavily lined and framed with a white beard which accentuated the impression of great age, but his eyes were still shrewd and lively, and after we broke apart and he stood back to look me up and down for a moment. “I may be an old man” he said, “and the years have worn me down greatly, but last time I saw you, you were but a youth. I see those years have laid a heavy burden on you too, and there is much hardship and suffering in your face. Pray tell me your tale, and of what has passed in the North, for we have heard such terrible tidings since the Prince returned. But I am so happy to see you that I forget my good manners!”. He dismissed and thanked the servant, and then turned to the woman, who had taken a few steps towards us from the table by the window and stood, hands clasped in front of her, smiling.

She was dark haired, handsome and well dressed, and I immediately took her to be someone of importance, but I also had the feeling I had seen her somewhere before, though I could not for the life of me think where. Then it came back to me with a jolt, for this was none other than the companion to the Princess who had caught my eye when she rode past as we had climbed the road back up to the Fortress that freezing night so long ago, and who I had questioned Daeron about . She caught my gaze and held it steadily, and I remembered why I had been so taken by her. “Lady Idhrethil” said Angon, “may I introduce to you Esteldir son of Galdirion of Rushwater Vale in the Northern Marches, who was my ward”. I bowed, and she spoke, in a voice that was a little deeper than I expected, but clearly touched with the accent of the north. “He has often spoken of you” she said, “and I am glad to meet you, and will also be pleased to hear your tidings. For my family also once had a holding in the Vales, and mayhap we are distant kin”. 

Close to she was shorter than I had imagined and her face a little older and less perfect but all the more beautiful for it, and I found myself enchanted by her. My heart pounded in my chest and I felt suddenly awkward and tongue tied and feared I would blush if I tried to meet her gaze again. This was something new and terrible for me for no woman had had this effect on me before, I who had never lacked for companions, be they tavern girls, farmer’s daughters or a lonely widow or two in the town. I had always tried to treat them kindly, but it was invariably they who had strong feelings for me, and not the reverse, so it was an uncomfortable surprise to find myself at such a sudden disadvantage in this matter. The spell was broken by a distant hour bell sounding in one of the towers, and a look of disappointment fell over Idhrethil’s face. “Forgive me, for much as I would like to remain here I must now depart to my duties. For how long do you remain here in Lastbridge?” I found my tongue at last. “Only today my lady, for an escort party is leaving for Bearcliffe tomorrow, and I must accompany them. For they will be waiting for me back in Northford, and I must not tarry while they labour”. I found myself trying to think of reasons to cancel my departure, but she replied, directing her question at Angon. “May I come to your rooms tonight and dine with you?” She turned her attention to me. “For I very much wish to hear you tale too, and speak with you of the lands where I spent my childhood, if you are willing?” Angon gave his immediate assent, and I did not need to give mine, and she bowed and left us.

Angon turned to me with a twinkle in his eye. “She is fair, is she not, the Lady Idhrethil? She comes to spend time with me often of late, and I am as grateful for her company as she may be for mine. For here we can both speak plainly and escape the artifice and spite of the royal household and we often study the beautiful and unregarded books here together . For I deem she is not happy, she was widowed young and has no means of her own, and though she is of noble blood her duties as companion to the princess have are tantamount to that of a servant. Not only that but she has disdained all suitors, finding them all shallow, unpleasant or lacking wit, and now spiteful tongues name her the Lady Icicle and such. Were I not a few years younger I would wipe the smirks from their faces… but enough of this. You are returned to us, whole and hale, and I thank the Valar for this blessing. Come, I have a small repast and some wine here, if you are so minded we will go down into the small courtyard below and share it while you tell me your tale.

I was agreeable to the food if not the wine, though it was rare to find it in those days, and we went through a small door in the wall and descended a stair that brought us out into what would once have been a fine ornamental garden, hemmed in on all sides by tall walls and steep roofs. The fountain in the centre was long dried up and covered in lichen and the rest of the place was a sad wilderness of dead weeds and moss, but it was still a charming spot, and we sat down on a stone bench in a bower. Angon shared out what to my rustic tastes was a very fine meal indeed with trembling hands, and I ate it with relish despite my present fragile condition. I began my tale with the first march on High Burgh, the battle and the atrocities that followed it at Greenhow and the winter that followed, sparing no details. He shook his head and grew very sombre. “We heard a different tale altogether here afterwards, but the truth cannot be buried for long when there have been so many witnesses. Many rumours have circulated since, fuelling discontent amongst those with Hillman blood in their veins, which you now confirm the truth of. In these desperate times we are led by men without honour or scruple, and it will be our undoing. I was there when they brought the Chieftain back here, a man who had more honour and courage than all of them put together. He died well, but any hope of a better future for our land died with him”.

I composed myself and continued with my tale, speaking of the misery I had endured trapped in High Burgh and my eventual disgrace and reduction to the ranks when I had broken. I told of my fortuitous escape from the annihilation of my company at Deepvale, my wanderings in the Shaws and my rescue from certain death by what turned, by an incredible twist of fate to be my mother’s kin. I spared no detail here either, repeating the tale of my Grandfather travelling to Northford to rescue me and being turned away from the gates of the Keep in Northford empty handed. I spoke of their simple way of life, their honesty and generosity, and the beauty of the vale in which they lived. What I left unspoken hung heavy in the air between us for a few long moments, and then I could contain myself no more. “Why? I need to know why you denied me the right to grow up with my own kin, loved and cherished, preferring instead a cold stone castle full of soldiers and orphans for me? Why?” My voice cracked as I uttered the last, the pain of the discovery made raw again. Angon sat in silence, like a statue, and I noticed his hands were trembling again. Then a single tear coursed down his craggy cheek. “Forgive me Esteldir, for this was a decision made in haste that I have long debated. I was a proud and stubborn man, and could not bring myself to think of Carandir’s heir growing up a farm boy in some far forgotten valley. You were from a family of fine soldiers and I saw that as your destiny, and so it has turned out to be, for you stand here before me the equal of any of them. I cannot however look you in the eye say that I did what was best for you, though we cannot know how things would have gone had things been set otherwise. It must also be remembered that there were always plenty in the Shaws who were ready to take against anyone with the blood of the west in their veins, those of supposed high blood in the lowlands are not the only ones guilty of such faults”.

It was my turn to be silent and mull over his words for now I had heard what he had to say I knew that there was a deal of truth in them. My mixed blood had already denied me the choice to remain with my family, and even if that obstacle had been overcome there was no reason to suppose that I would not have been pressed into service fighting for a different master, since the farm would always have been Aelred’s by right. My heart softened and I laid my hand on the old man’s shoulder, for however much I yearned for my kin and what I could have had, I could now find it in me to forgive Angon, and I told him so. He thanked me in turn, and then pleased to be able to change the subject of the discussion asked me to continue with my tale.

I told him of my return to Northford, my imprisonment and the kindness and compassion of Berenion. I told him of the History Of Rhudaur I had been lent, and he smiled, saying it was one of his favourites as well and he possessed a copy in his library there too if I wished to reacquaint myself with it. I spoke of my being freed and my service during the quiet years before the fall of Northford, and I thought it must have pained Angon to hear of so many of the things he had fought for and maintained in our defence being abandoned, but I have no doubt he understood it could not have been otherwise. And then, with the pain and horror of it all still fresh in my own mind I recounted the events of the battle and the terrible siege that followed, the burning of Northford, our eventual relief, the sally to open the gates and the death of Berenion.

I finished my tale, and we sat in silence for a while. “So it is all true then,” he said quietly “Northford lies in ruins and the north is lost”.


	61. Chapter 61

Another chime from the hour bell broke the sad thoughtful silence and Angon roused himself, for it was time for him to return to the library, where a small group of boys, the children of nobility, were to receive instruction on the history and land of Rhudaur. I returned with him and while he engaged them with a variety of wonderful tales that I was all too familiar with I roamed amongst the dusty shelves admiring the tremendous collection of books and documents there, some of them of great age. I carefully pulled one particular volume from its resting place and set it down on a lectern, opening the beautifully tooled black leather cover. The script was of a style I was unfamiliar with, and I could barely make out what was written there, but as far as I could make out it was a memoir of the wars at the end of the second age in Sindarin, by a man of high birth who had fought in them. Though the book was of tremendous antiquity I thought it could not possibly have been an original for that surely would have crumbled into dust, but a copy that had been made in a later time to preserve the work. I leafed carefully through it, trying to make sense of the words on many of the pages, but was disappointed to find I could only make out the text in snatches, which left me fascinated, intrigued and frustrated in equal part. I put it carefully back where I had found it and continued to browse until I found what appeared to be a study of the heraldry of Arnor, again very old, and full of beautifully rendered drawings of various devices on shields and banners. Some of the names of the families there were still vaguely familiar, some were not at all and must have been from other parts of the old kingdom. I spent a long while looking through it, until I found what I had barely dared hope would be in there, and my heart gave a little leap of joy. There on the page was the blue and white quartered design I remembered from my childhood and the text declaring it to belong to the house of Rushwater Vale in the Eastern Province. There also was the device of Idhrethil’s forefathers in the neighbouring Brightwater Vale, and some other names that I only knew as places rather than the homes of the noble families that had once lived in them. Last of my line though I was, it made me feel like I was part of a much greater whole, and it pleased me that our family name had once meant something. I resolved to carry the device on my shield if the opportunity ever arose, for it was not customary in the ranks.

Angon completed his lessons, dismissed his pupils cheerfully and came over to join me. “They are beautiful are they not” he said smiling “I am content to see out my days in such esteemed company, for one would need several lifetimes to be able to read and take in all the knowledge that is held within this great chamber. There are volumes here so old I do not dare to open them for fear they would crumble into dust, and other works of incomparable beauty that could only have been made by elvish hands. Yet few if any visit any more, and fewer still actually choose to study what can be found here. The King used to come often to spend a few hours every week with me, to read and talk of old times, but his failing health now precludes it, as you could see the path to this door is far from straight and passes up and down many stairs. But I am content enough with my lot, I learn much of what passes in the court and wider world from Idhrethil, who is an avid student, and I earn my keep tutoring the sons of lordlings as you have just seen. Come, tell me what you have found, and let me show you yet more marvels”.

I was more than willing to accept his invitation, and he was delighted to be able to share his knowledge and passion for the library with me, and we passed several happy hours exploring one wonderful book after another, most of them works from a far greater time than our own and full of forgotten knowledge. It still grieves me greatly that it is all gone now, and I have no doubt that some of what was kept there is now lost to the world forever. Though I have never been more than a humble soldier, I said my vows and pledged my service so that others might live in peace and enrich all our lives with their knowledge and wisdom.

That happiest of days began to fade into evening, and we eventually abandoned our exploration and retired to Angon’s humble but comfortable apartments, where a servant received his instructions regarding the evening meal and I went to great lengths to make myself more presentable, somewhat to his amusement. It was with a flutter of trepidation that I answered the door to a light knock and admitted the Lady, who was now dressed in plain garments with her hair loose on her shoulders, and to my mind even more beautiful for it. She greeted me with a radiant smile and entered and we sat for a while making pleasant small talk while we waited for the meal to arrive. I have rarely felt happier, for a day that had started with a measure of trepidation had been unexpectedly and completely transformed into something wonderful.

We did not have long to wait, and the meal when it arrived was once again of a quality and variety that I had rarely enjoyed, and it clearly amused Idhrethil a little to hear me enthuse about it so until Angon quietly reminded her that I had very recently starved in the siege of Northford. She was naturally mortified, and I in turn mortified that she should be on my behalf, and not a little put out with Angon for his intervention. But the moment soon passed and the mood lightened once again as I talked about the books I had seen and especially at the mention of the book which included the devices of both our houses. She was familiar the book too and asked me if I knew Brightwater Vale, to which I was able to answer in the positive. Unlike me she had lived in the Vales until the age of five before the first attacks began, and had clear memories of the house and land there. I described the vale as it now was in detail, grown wild and unkempt, of the ruins of her family home, so similar to those of my own, and of the battles and skirmishes I had fought there. She sat next to me, listening intently with her face full of concern, dark eyes brimming with tears, and it was all I could do not to take her in my arms there and then. Angon too, who could remember all as it had been before the war with Angmar , also sat listening intently, quiet and thoughtful.

I asked Idhrethil if she had lived long in Northford after her family were forced to flee the Vales. “For a few years” she replied “but like many my family were impoverished without the income from their lands, and when I was eleven years old I was sent south to live with relatives here in Lastbridge, and my parents joined me a year later. But I will always be a child of the North, for like you that is where I belong”. She continued, speaking of her early marriage to a much older Lord with holdings on the west bank of the river, a marriage that was expedient rather than loving, though she spoke of him kindly. He went north with the King as one of his personal guard, and fought at the battle of the northern plain and perished there, and she was left a widow at the tender age of nineteen. Her husband’s estate passed to his brother by custom, leaving her empty handed, but in any event those lands were soon abandoned when their defence could no longer be guaranteed. Fortunately her husband had been close to the King and he took pity on her situation, giving her the position of Companion to the Princess, and it was the role she had fulfilled dutifully ever since. I asked her if she thought she would marry again, instantly regretting the foolish question as soon as I had uttered it, but she did not seem put out and replied that she would if the right man could be found. For the Princess would soon be married again, and would no longer have need for a companion.

“Now it is your turn” she said smiling, “tell me your tale, for our good friend Angon here has often mentioned you, and spoken of you with pride and love”. So I began my tale with the story of my childhood, the death of my father and then my grandfather, and finally the murder of the rest of my family by Fodric, and my delivery to the keep into Angon’s care as a castle rat. She knew of Fodric, saying that he was often at court these days, and that he was a vile at hateful man, always scheming and wheedling, and did not balk when I told her of my vow of revenge upon him. Angon too concurred. “He has risen high indeed from his days driving wagons for your father, and is all the worse for it. I for one hope you exact your due from him, but be very careful, for it will not be fair exchange to pay for his life with your own”. I assured him that I had already weighed the matter carefully and would wait patiently until the opportunity arose, having been thwarted several times already. The mention of him sharpened the old hatred again, which had been blunted by more recent preoccupations, and I vowed yet again to avenge myself on him. I had killed an unarmed man of his ilk only a few days before, and knew I could do so again without the slightest compunction. I would just need the right circumstances and good fortune, and was sure they would come my way eventually.


	62. Chapter 62

I regained my composure and continued my tale, telling of how I had finally become a soldier on the day Angon was relieved of his position, and had very shortly afterwards found myself involved in the first battle at Northford. I did not speak of the fight with the Silver Captain, but Angon interrupted me and told the tale, and I saw with some small satisfaction that Idhrethil looked impressed. But her face grew more and more solemn as I told of the hard fighting and heavy losses we had suffered trying to stem the tide of foes from the north in the years afterwards, and then the march on High Burgh and the battle of Greenhow that followed. I spared her the detail, saying only that some of our men had not acted honourably and then repeated the tale I had told to Angon earlier in the day of my adventures in the Shaws, my eventual return to Northford, and finally the most recent events there. Tears ran down her cheeks when I described the burning of the town, the suffering of the townsfolk during the siege and the death of Lord Berenion, who she had known and liked very much.

She took hold of my hand in hers where it lay on the table and held it gently. I remember noticing immediately how very soft her skin was. “You have lived through so much for one so young” she said quietly. “What do you think will happen now?” I closed my other hand on hers in turn and shook my head. “I do not know, but I fear that Northford will be abandoned and left in ruins, and that we will pull our defences back to Bearcliffe. Despite all our victories we are spent, and without support from the Shaws we do not have the men or means to defend the north any more”. Angon concurred and added “and it is in the Shaws that our greatest peril now lies I fear, and may prove our undoing, for if we have driven the Hill Folk to take up with Angmar then all is lost. I do not believe this new Chieftain is as loyal as he pretends, or that Ulfred, son of the man he replaced is as friendless as we might wish to believe”.

We sat in a thoughtful and rather gloomy silence for a few long moments, during which Idhrethil let go of my hand and gave me a sad smile as I freed hers in turn. It was Angon who spoke first afterwards, thanking us both for our company and the wonderful day we had spent together, but regretting that his years wearied him and that he would regretfully have to leave us and retire for the night. I was filled with a pang of sadness, as I knew this would be a farewell, and I did not know when I would next have the opportunity to visit him. We embraced, and he implored me to remain safe and sound and return soon, and I struggled to hold back the tears that welled in my eyes, for he seemed suddenly so diminished and frail and I feared in my heart we would not meet again. I thanked him once more for everything he had done for me, and then withdrew while Idhrethil also bade him good night. When all was done we stepped out of his apartments into the corridor and close the door behind us.

“My Lady” I said, screwing up my courage and determined to seize the moment “the hour is not yet late. If it does not inconvenience you greatly would you do me the honour of walking with me for a short while and showing me some of the sights of the Citadel?” She gave me a sweet smile and laughed. “You have a most courteous tongue for one who claims to be no more than a rustic soldier from the North! It would be my pleasure, and a simple question would have been quite sufficient. There is a waxing moon and I often walk the walls on such nights. Come!” She tucked her arm in mine and we set off at a gentle pace, and I could not have been happier. For the next hour or so we passed happily through various halls and courtyards, galleries and walled gardens full of statues lit with silvery moonlight that she told me about as we passed. The place was very grand indeed, more vast than I could ever have imagined and the moonlight and darkness added to the air of enchantment and mystery.

Eventually we made our way up onto the battlements and stood in companionable silence looking out westward over a moonlit vista. Directly below us lay the battlements of the fortress, and the tower where I had stood with Daeron, and beyond that the rooftops and spires of Lastbridge, illuminated by the occasional lantern or flickering torch. Beyond lay the rolling hills of the west bank where Idhrethil had once dwelt. She still held my arm gently as we stood there in silence, and I ached to take her in my arms instead, but my courage failed me in the matter. My good manners held me back, for if unwelcome my advances would have been a gross breach of etiquette, and I dared not risk bringing what had thus far been a wonderful evening in her company to an unhappy conclusion. So I continued to stand quietly at her side as the air grew chill and the moon began to dip down towards the distant hills of Western Rhudaur. I debated with myself countless times afterward whether I should have been bolder at that moment, and whether events might have taken a different turn afterwards, but it is not possible to change the past and inevitably fruitless to dwell on it over much.

Once again it was the chime of the hour bell that broke the spell and she stirred, her low voice full of regret. “I fear that it is time for us to descend and go to our rest, for duty calls us both early on the morrow. Come, I will escort you to the gate, for I fear you will lose your way otherwise and remain here wandering until the morning!” She loosed my arm and turned away and I followed, and all to soon we reached our destination and it was time to part. “Fare well brave Esteldir. It was a joy to meet one I have heard Angon speak of so often, and a joy too to see the happiness your unexpected arrival brought him. Look for us when you next return south”. I wanted to say so much, but could not think of the right words. “My lady, I will, and I thank you too, from the bottom of my heart”. I clasped her hands and bowed, then turned away a little embarrassed, and strode off through the gate, not daring to look back until I had cleared it, but she was still there, immobile, watching me go.

Sleep was slow to come that night as I lay in the hall, alternating between elation and despair as I replayed the night’s events over and over in my mind. One moment I was sure my affections were returned, and then I would think of something, a moment or a gesture that filled me with sudden doubt and sent me plunging into despair. If this was love, then it was a torment indeed.

I rose with the others in the cold grey light of dawn, and it was not long before we were tramping across the courtyard, heading for out meeting with the supply train down in the town. Over on my left hand the rising sun cast a rosy glow over the grim grey walls of the citadel, and I thought with a pang that somewhere within Idhrethil too was rising and preparing to face a new day. Was it possible that she could be thinking of me at this very moment? The very idea was enough to send my spirits soaring again before the inevitable crash back to earth. For I was twelve years her junior, with few prospects and leading a life full of mortal peril. Why should such as she even entertain the idea of a match with such as I when she moved in such exalted circles?

With that last thought I hefted my pack, told myself to cease thinking such thoughts and tried to throw myself into the immediate task in hand, something which often gave me solace when I was troubled. But whatever I did it was never long before the gnawing thoughts began again. We passed down into the town, the streets already busy despite the early hour, for it was a market day and finding our wagons outside the North Gate, we formed up and we set off. Not being an official part of the detail meant I was free to trail along at the back and keep my own counsel, for I had much to ponder even without the Lady, and did not wish to spend time idly chattering with my companions. My sombre mood was matched by the weather, which had turned autumnal, the wind had risen and whipped at our cloaks and a lowering sky promised rain. This journey north promised to be a miserable affair, and there would be little to look forward to once I arrived back there. I felt as if I had briefly lived in another better world, and now mine felt mean and shabby and worthless.


	63. Chapter 63

It was not long before the rain began to fall in earnest on our column, and it darkened my mood further. I was however soon shaken from my introspection by the sight of the many poor wretches we passed travelling the road southward, clutching small bundles of possessions and still looking half starved and desperate. For these were the remnants of the people of Northford who had survived the siege with us, now hoping against hope to find some food and shelter in Lastbridge. When we halted for the night a small group asked if they could join us, and we shared our rations with them. It seemed the Prince’s promise to help them all had rung hollow, for supplies in the camp had run low in a matter of days and the main body of the army hastily decamped and retreated south as a result. The townsfolk were left to fend for themselves and follow as best they could. The soldiers who travelled with them did show them kindness where they could, and provided them with protection until they reached Bearcliffe, but the streets there were already crowded with fugitives from earlier troubles and there was little help to be found. As a result most had no choice but to continue on the road southward, though many were barely fit to travel and still half starved. I gave them most of the coin that remained in my scrip, and they thanked me with tears in their eyes, but when they learned who I was and where I was headed they regarded me with a mixture of pity and sympathy, despite their own desperate straits.

Things were indeed bad when we got to Bearcliffe, and my companions were forced to make a way through the crowded streets for the wains, for hungry crowds gathered around them pleading for aid, and some desperate souls even tried to clamber onto them and attempt to take what they carried. Needless to say they were beaten back with spear butts and thrown down without pity or ceremony, and when I saw what was happening I was angered and sickened by the sight. I could bear to watch no longer and pushed my way into the crowd, going back the way we had come for a short way until the street grew quieter. I wondered if the soldiers would have been so rough if they had been from Northford or Bearcliffe, and could happily have struck them down, but after I while I calmed down and considered wearily that once again they had little choice but to do as they were bid. Only a few years since, though it could have been a lifetime, I had been a young soldier full of ideas about honour and service and deplored the way of some of the veterans talked about their commanders, the king, and soldiering in general. Now, even though I was not yet of any age myself I knew that they had mostly been right, and I did not like it. 

I climbed the narrow streets and back alleys up to the Keep, made myself known there and was greeted warmly by the captain on duty, who was himself freshly returned from the north. He informed me that I had missed a supply train going north by a day, and that he knew of nobody else that would be going north for at least a week. Conversely he expected that there would be further arrivals heading his way, so the road would not be empty by any means and I was at liberty to continue my journey alone, or remain as his guest until the next string of wains went north. I thanked him for his kind offer, but told him that I would be taking the first option, for I had no desire to remain in that place with its crowded streets full of desperation. I passed a pleasant enough evening with him and his fellows, many of whom I knew well, hearing the latest news and discussing what might happen next. Before he had left for the south the Prince had decreed that Northbridge town would be abandoned, since it now lay in ruins and the cost of defending it both in men and coin were grown too great to justify. The remaining townsfolk were ordered to relocate to the enclave round Bearcliffe or further south, and a small garrison would remain stationed at the Keep, to watch over the ford and vale under the command of Lord Arahael. There was however general bemusement as to what exactly he would be expected to do if ten thousand northmen arrived on the north bank of the river, or how he might send warning southward if the road were cut off. I was treated sympathetically, like the poor wretches I had met on the road my fellows clearly regarded me with a measure of pity on account of what might lie ahead for us all.

The events in the town and my preoccupation with what I had learned the previous evening had kept the Lady from my thoughts to some degree, but once I had set out again early the following morning I once again found myself thinking of little else and was haunted by a longing to be with her once again. I played over every detail of the time we had spent together two days since, and found myself pitched between elation and despair as I thought of one detail or another, of how she had clasped my hand, or how I should have had more courage and taken her in my arms and declared my feelings for her. For even if rebuffed, what did I stand to lose? It would have been of no consequence given my situation, and yet on the other hand it would have meant everything to know of her favour during the lonely watches that lay ahead in that grim Keep overlooking the ruins of the town where I was born and grew up. My heart ached and there was no surcease.

The road was quieter than I expected and the only others I met coming in the other direction were one of the last Bearcliffe companies to return south. They reported the road to be quiet, but urged caution. The men looked weary and dispirited, and I guessed that they had been left behind to help with the grim work of burying the dead. It was noon when I met them on the road and I did not see another soul until that evening, but it was clear even from a distance that a large number of people were gathered at the old way station and that not all of them were soldiers. As I approached, sentries who I recognised as being from among my own men challenged me, and then greeted me enthusiastically.They told me that they were mostly men with families who had been living in Northford, and when the Prince had given his edict that the town was to be abandoned it had put Arahael in a difficult position. For those men would either have had to send their loved ones away south to who knew where, or if they had stayed in the town in defiance of orders then it would have meant more mouths to feed, and great peril if the enemy returned. Before he had left for the south, Daeron had also foreseen this and had spoken with his old friend on the matter and now the men and their families were travelling south to Watersmeet. The signed decree they bore declared that they had been transferred to the Watersmeet Company and a the end of their journey they would be given homes and land to settle. Hope of a new and better life waited for them in the south. I realised from the size of the column that this amounted to a considerable sacrifice on Arahael’s part, for the garrison at Northford Keep would now be a very small one indeed, barely larger than a single company, and he might well incur the wrath of his Commanders in Lastbridge for his actions if they discovered what he had done.

I spent a cold but otherwise tranquil night in their company, and was able to tell them much about the road south and what they would find at the end of it. To my surprise I found my old friend Cenric amongst them, sat by the spluttering fire beside a handsome blonde haired woman, for I had not known he had a wife in the town. It turned out that she was the widow of one of his old friends, lost a few years before patrolling in the vales, and they had grown close since that time having nobody else to call their own. I wished him well, and hoped our paths would cross again in happier times. He thanked me, and returned my good wishes, but his face was grim. “I am a son of the Shaws, but have given my whole life to fighting for the King and the people of the north. Now the King wages war on my kin, and has let the north fall into ruin and abandoned it. I wish you all the good fortune in the world, young Lordling, but I no longer know who or what I fight for. Given the chance I would cast aside my gear and set to farming a small plot with my lovely Eiris here, perhaps young Daeron will see to it for me. But I wish you well with all my heart, for you are every bit the man your father was now, and he was the best I have known”, He rose and we embraced strongly, and there were a few tears on both our parts for all the long years of hardship and suffering we had shared. It did not seem possible there would now be a Keep without Cenric in it.

It was raining hard again in the morning, and I left my companions with a heavy heart full of foreboding, which for a little while it drove out all thought of the Lady Idhrethil. But not for long, and once again the familiar pattern of debate, elation and doubt preoccupied me as I trod my path through the familiar landscape of rain soaked forest and crag. I met no other on the road that day, or any trouble, and made good time, arriving wet and cold among the scattered ruins of the hinterland south of the town later on in the afternoon. Out of habit, as I always did, I cast a wistful glance across the river into the entrance to Rushwater Vale as I passed, but now my attention was also drawn towards the confluence of the Brightwater, marking the end of the vale where the woman who had captured my heart had once lived as a child. She too was now the mistress of ruins, and it was something that bound us together.

I confess I wept a little when the ruins of Northford came into view, stark against the slate grey sky, with the walls of the Keep standing naked above what had once been a thriving town. I wept a little more too when I passed the great fresh mounds of earth alongside the road where too many good men lay, thrown into the pits together without ceremony, but by the time I reached the town gate and was challenged by the sentries I had mastered myself and was once again their captain. They came down from the wall and opened the gate for me and greeted me warmly, and I them, and then after a brief discussion and exchange of news I made my way up through the dreary ruins to the Keep. Despite the rain that continued to fall there was still a strong stench of burnt wood and damp ash hanging over the place, a choking smell that I knew only too well from the time I had spent by the burnt out ruins of my family home as a child. It was a stench I had learned to hate.


	64. Chapter 64

I arrived at the Keep, grateful that the charnel outside the walls had been cleared away. Once again those on the gate were pleased to see me and entered within the familiar towering grey walls that had been home for most of my life. The place was empty and quiet, and much of the dirt and debri that had been present when I had last been there had again been cleared away. The rain pattered down onto a courtyard that was now in a rough and ruinous state, with large areas of cobbles having been pulled up to be used as weapons. I guessed correctly that one of the duties that would fall to us in the weeks and months ahead would be to repair them.

I made my way through the silent passageways and deserted stairways until I reached the lord’s apartments. Nobody stood guard there now, so I rapped on the door and went in, and found a typically haggard looking Arahael sat at is table reading a scroll. He leapt to his feet with a look of pleasure on his face and coming round the table to where I stood embraced me warmly. “Esteldir my good friend” he said smiling “you are a sight for weary eyes. Yet I did not look to see you returned for some time yet, you should have tarried in Lastbridge awhile, for you as much as any man here deserved some rest!” I thought he deserved it far more than I but did not say so, for his words were like a knife in the heart to me, so sharp I could not speak for a moment. I could have tarried there - and would have given anything to have been able to do so, for I might have had the chance learn more of the lady and she of me, and I would have been able to learn for sure whether my affection for her was returned at all. “Are you well?” asked Arahael, with a look of sudden concern on his face. “Yes, quite” I replied, smiling sadly. “I would gladly have remained there a few days, but thought you would need me back here as soon as possible, for there is much to do. How fare you?” He laughed “I divine that some pretty young thing has stolen your heart, and I am sorry I we did not speak clearly on the matter before you left. I am well, as well as may be. The Prince and most of the army left us as soon as they decently could, but the men of Bearcliffe remained here and rendered us great aid. Most of what needed to be done has now been done though a good deal of it was hard to endure. Tell me, how went things with Lord Berenion’s return to Elford? I thank you for the service you did him there”.

I related the sad tale in all its detail, and after hearing it he shook his head. “I agree with the Captain, you did nothing wrong in this case. I am glad for all our sakes that he was a just and upright man, or the pretty little thing you left behind in Lastbridge would have been left forlorn and I would have been robbed of my right hand. Though it has to be said that we are not Lord and Captain of much here now, for we guard a ruin and we have barely enough men to call a company left to man this Keep. We remain here so the King can still claim his writ runs this far up the Hoarwell, and we can do no more that watch. For when the enemy returns we will not have the means to hinder him and it is likely that we will soon be bested one way or another. The men we have here now are those with the least to lose, youngsters like you or greybeards with no kin or wife. You no doubt you met Cenric and the others on the road, when the Prince ordained that Northford Town be abandoned I could not in all conscience ask them to remain here on this fruitless watch and send their families away south, so Daeron came to my aid in the matter. No doubt Barachon will rant and fume when he hears I have sent half my strength away south to tend sheep and grow oats between the rivers with their wives, but I care little”. He laughed drily and I joined him.

It was time for the evening meal, so we descended to the great hall and I was reunited with the rest of my men. There were many glad reunions, but just as many sad tidings regarding men who had once supped with us there in the hall. Those who remained were some of the most experienced and battle hardened soldiers in the whole of the Kingdom, and I felt a little surge of pride at the thought that I now commanded them. I swore to myself that I would always do them justice, whatever awaited us. 

After the meal I made my way back through the now pitch dark to what had previously been my room. Miraculously, although somewhat disordered it was still more or less as I had left it. I set my candle down on the window ledge and spent a while returning the place to some semblance of order. When all was done I sat by the window and looked out on a view that would once have been punctuated by the faint light of lanterns and torches in the town below, but now the dark was complete and unbroken. My thoughts inevitably returned to Idhrethil, and once again I relived the pang of anguish I felt when I learned that I could have remained longer in Lastbridge. If only she could be here in this room, I thought to myself, what quiet pleasure we could take in each other’s company, and how happy would she be to be back in the land of her birth? And yet this was an old draughty Keep set among ruins in a cold and empty land. The place she longed for no longer existed, and what was I to her? We had spent a pleasant evening together, but I would soon be forgotten. My thoughts ran their familiar course until I was too weary to continue, and I snuffed out the candle and threw myself down the bed and let sleep take me.

It did not take me long for me to become accustomed to my new role, and it was something of a solace to be able to throw myself into it. It took me a little while to become accustomed to the idea that it was I who was expected to make decisions and decide what orders to give, rather than simply passing them on which had usually been the case for me as a lieutenant. However I soon grew in confidence and after a little while found that I rather enjoyed it. The men responded well to me on the whole, for I perhaps now I had a name and reputation of my own in a small way after my various deeds, and my tender years were not so important any more. My diligent work meant Arahael had more time to deal with the many petty duties that came with the rank of Lord, and keeping the men well drilled and busy was an antidote to the long hours of boredom and inactivity. The courtyard was soon repaired, and we sent foraging parties out through the town looking through the ruins for any useful items, of which there were a surprising quantity, for despite their ferocity the fires had not managed to consume everything. Every now and again we would go south into the hills in numbers to cut wood and hunt what we could, for winter was on its way and we needed to build up our stores. Every two or three weeks a supply column would wind its way up from Bearcliffe, and we would receive fresh supplies, messages and ordinances from Lastbridge and the latest gossip, and this became the rhythm of our new life. As ever after a big defeat the enemy had gone quiet, but we remained south of the river and I did not allow our watch to falter.

I still thought of Idrethil constantly, and secretly hoped that one day one of the message scrolls that came north with our supplies would be to me from her, but it was never the case. Even after the first snows came I would still go up to the roof of the gatehouse tower at sunset and look south and think of her, wondering what she was doing and whether she ever spared a thought for me. I hoped beyond hope that Arahael would find cause to send me southward for a spell, but that did not happen. In any event I had made myself too useful to him, and no call came, for as he had foreseen it was almost as if Lastbridge had forgotten us.


	65. Chapter 65

As we had feared that winter was the harshest we had suffered for many years, the snow piled high within the walls and even higher outside,for many weeks at a time, blanketing the ruins and mercifully from sight for a while. We were trapped within for many weeks but had laid in stores for such an eventuality, so although we had exceedingly dull fare we did not starve. It was difficult to be penned in for so long and inactive, but it helped that we were so few in number in such a large place, and I found plenty of tasks to be found to keep the men busy. However the final thaw did come in the nick of time, Arahael had been on the verge of marching us all south with the small store of food that still remained to us when the road finally reopened and fresh supplies arrived. News came with it, and a summons for Arahael to Lastbridge to attend as a guest at the wedding of Princess Elien and Lord Berthedir. So this was the union that Idhrethil had spoken of, which would render her superfluous, and a fine union indeed it was for Berthedir and Barachon’s faction, for it would put them right at the centre of things.

A wild fantasy involving my accompanying Arahael to Lastbridge and rescuing poor abandoned Idrethil and bringing her back north, perhaps just to Bearcliffe flashed through my mind, and I almost said something before I realised with a pang of dismay what his departure would mean, for I knew with certaintly that I would be forced to remain where I was and deputise until he returned. Ironically Arahael, who was a career soldier of relatively humble stock with little or no experience of Lordship and all it entailed, was equally filled with dismay at the prospect of being forced to mix with the ranks he had previously had good reason to disdain. He was orderderd to leave as soon as possible, and would not return for four or five weeks.

So it was that I found myself addressing the assembled company in the Great Hall to announce his departure and my temporary elevation as his stand in. If I had been speaking to them before a battle I would have had no difficulty at all, but this did not go nearly as well as I had hoped. Months of inactivity and confinement had rendered them surly and restive, and my announcement was met with a murmur whose meaning could not be mistaken. I caught one or two of the lieutenants and sergeants exchanging glances and realised with a sickening jolt that the respect I had taken for granted was far from universally shared. Shaken by this unexpected turn of events, I continued, realising that showing any sign of weakness at that moment would be a disaster. I let myself grow angry instead, and warned the men that I would brook no dissent and that anyone disobeying orders would be punished severely. I concluded and dismissed them, hoping that my sudden outburst had had the desired effect on them.

On the whole it did, but the lesson I had learned was a hard one, for it was clear that my authority was derived from my association with Arahael and it was he that they loved and respected, not I. I was known in rather derogatory fashion as the Lordling behind my back, and many of the men resented me for my youthful enthusiasm for drill and the strict observance of rule and regulation, which they naturally considered largely petty and unimportant. Worse still, it was of course widely known that I was of mixed hill and western blood like many of them and yet a blind eye had been turned to this because of my father’s noble lineage and my good education . It was the custom that only those of largely Dunedain lineage would advance beyond the rank of sergeant in those days, and I had always taken it for granted as the natural order of things, but it was clear that this too was a source of resentment amongst the men, who were either of Hillman, part Hillman or of indeterminate heritage. I thought then too of Cenric, who had been every bit as much the soldier as my father, and a good friend of his, and the way he had seemed to treat me more harshly than the other boys. I suddenly saw his subsequent kindness towards me in a new light, for it must have been hard to know that however brave and skilful a soldier you were that you would never advance in rank, simply because of where you came from.

I was relieved to see Arahael return, but not nearly as relieved as he was to arrive back at the Keep. His sojourn in Lastbridge had been every bit as awkward as he had feared, for his plain speech and lack of fine manners had set him apart from the other Lords. However he had done his duty and taken his part in the ceremonies, and also learned much of what was going on elsewhere in the realm. He had also visited Angon, spent a good deal of time with him and reported him to be in reasonable health and good spirits. He said that he had asked after me and asked Arahael to pass on his best wishes, and was proud to hear that I had been left in command at the Keep. This news pleased me greatly, as did Arahael’s promise that he would make sure he would find a pretext to send me south visit him in the near future. At this I could not resist asking if he had seen anything of the Lady Idrethil when he had visited Angon, as she was a friend of his, or whether he had any news of her. He looked a little surprised at the question, but to my delight said that indeed he did - the wedding had been a double ceremony, and that the lady in question had married one of Berthedir’s captains, a certain Belegon the same day.

I tried to hide my shock and dismay at this news, but I am not sure I was completely successful, and Arahael looked even more surprised. My dismay soon turned to anger, anger that I had devoted myself to such a fickle creature and I cursed her, and then immediately afterwards in a rush of remorse turned my anger and shame on myself, for what right had I had to assume that she should owe me any loyalty? All the same, it was Belegon she had married. The man was a vicious brute, and perhaps I had greatly overestimated her after all. Arahael could easily have questioned me further, but he could see something about this news had troubled me greatly and he dismissed me instead, an act of kindness from a friend that I was later very grateful for.

I paced the empty corridors and stairways in a state of turmoil, filled with disappointment and eventually found my way to the gatehouse tower and climbed up to my customary viewpoint on the roof. The effort of the climb helped to calm me a little and by the time I reached the top I felt more sad rather than angry. I looked south, knowing now that my love would never be returned, and I broke down and wept, weeping for the happiness that had been taken from me, weeping at the bitter hand fate had dealt me, and eventually simply weeping for all the good friends I had lost and missed so keenly. I wept inconsolably for a long time, and I am glad that I was alone in that high place. I ran out of tears and remained where I was, slumped on the parapet exhausted by grief and sorrow as the new moon rose in the eastern sky, its weak light barely illuminating the rolling forested hills to the south. Foolish though it may have been, I knew my sudden passion for Idhrethil had been one of the few things that had kept me going and now that had been taken away from me I felt empty and lost.


	66. Chapter 66

In the days and weeks that followed I did what I had always done after a reverse and threw myself into my work, devoting myself to my many duties and exhausting myself in the practice yard. It was small solace however, and I was still consumed by feelings of loss and regret. When at length I spoke to Arahael about what had happened he was surprisingly kind, and his words were wise and soothing. “Every one of us has at least one great love in his lifetime, be it requited or no, and maybe she was yours. I can see what you saw in her too, and you must not judge her too harshly in her choice of match, for consider that she did not perhaps have a great deal of choice in the matter. Angon said she was alone and without kin, a songbird in a wood full of crows”. I saw the sadness in his eyes as he spoke, and something in the tone of his voice, and asked him if he had known such a love. “Indeed” he replied quielty, “like you I lost her to another many years ago, and the pain of that loss is still sharp, though I know that I will never see her again. This is my wife now” he said, patting the hilt at his side, “and mayhap it must become yours too”. He fell silent, and we spoke no further on the matter.

Arahael was true to his word, and once matters had been set in order to his satisfaction released me from my duties and sent me on a superfluous errand to Lastbridge, telling me to tarry there as long as I saw fit. I greeted this news with gratitude, but without the delight and anticipation it would have engendered a few months before. For all that I was glad that I would get to see Angon again and have the chance to spend time with him remembering the old days and browsing the volumes in the library with him. So it was that I set off southward with the next supply train, and found things in Bearcliffe as bad as ever. Several buildings had been burned along the main thoroughfare and it was fortunate that the place avoided the same fate as Northford. A great crowd of hungry folk had attacked a bakery and an army storehouse there during the winter, and during the melee that ensued they had been set ablaze. Blood had been shed quelling the unrest, and there was still an uneasy atmosphere in the town. The guards at the North Gate advised me not to walk the streets or alleyways alone in my soldier’s gear, especially after nightfall, and I assured them I had no intention of doing so. Instead reacquainted myself with my friend Captain Norchon at the Keep and spent another good evening in his company before resuming my journey south the following day. All his news seemed ill, however, and listening to him made me realise that our lot in Northford Keep might not be so bad after all, so long as none came to assail us from the north.

The rest of the journey was uneventful, and on reaching Lastbridge I made my way through the crowded streets and up the steep way that led to the gates of the Fortress. Though I had determined not to spend any more time thinking about Idhrethil, I could not help recalling with a pang that I had first seen her there, or that she most likely lay somewhere close by within those walls. I tried as best I could to dismiss her from my mind, and reported to the gatehouse, where I was once again admitted with courtesy. Afterwards I made my way directly to the citadel and again after a short wait a servant came to collect me, but instead of taking me to the library as I had expected given that the hour was not long past noon, he took me directly to Angon’s apartments. He told me that he was unwell and not expected to live much longer. This was a further dagger to my heart, for we had had no news of this in the north, and I hoped that I had not come too late.

He lay abed, gaunt and aged beyond his years, his eyes full of suffering, but he smiled and roused himself when he saw me standing before him. “My son” he said, his voice high and querulous, “you have come to see me again, and I am glad. Sit with me awhile and tell me your tidings”. I did as I was bid, but as I settled on a stool by the bed he was suddenly wracked with pain, and I clasped his claw like hand until the episode passed. “The leeches can do nothing for me, and my time is nearly done. Death will me a mercy for me now, and I do not fear it, for I have led a good life and lived into my dotage when so many others did not. If you can, take me back to the north and bury me with my fathers when I am gone, I would like to lie in the soil of the country I loved so much and devoted my life to”.

Then I told him of all that had passed since our last meeting, and he in turn spoke of the comings and goings in Lastbridge, and how he had become ill soon after we had last parted. The subject inevitably came round to Idhrethil and the weddings and he looked sad. “That poor child, the time we spent together in the library was a boon to both of us, but her husband to be put a stop to it as soon as he learned of it. I do not think it is a happy match, nor do I think one she chose willingly. It is sad that you were not able to spend more time here and get to know her better, for you would have been far better suited, and I believe she thought well of you when you met. It would have made me happy to see the two young people I cared most for in the world together”. I smiled and said nothing in reply, but Angon’s words had reopened all the old wounds, and I felt the pain of loss keenly once again.

I remained with him for a further three and a half weeks, spending my days at his bedside reading to him from his favourite books and manuscripts and keeping him company while he was awake, and watching over him while he slept. Arahael had not given me any particular date by which to return, and I knew anyway that he would have spared me without hesitation for the particular duty I had taken on. Angon had no visitors apart from the servants who called regularly and brought us food, and the Leech who visited once a day to administer potions to ease his suffering. Towards the end he slept almost continuously, but the day he died he awoke and was calm and lucid, thanking me for all I had done and wishing me well, and receiving my thanks and love in turn. Afterwards he smiled, fell back to sleep and did not wake again. Later that evening he stirred a little, and was still, and I knew that his spirit had departed the world.

I called a servant and told him what had passed, and an hour or so later was surprised by the arrival of a deputation at the door, led by a tall man of great age and authority dressed in black with sharp features whose manner immediately put me in mind of one of the great spiders from the old tales. I guessed him to be someone of rank from the way the others who had come with him did obeisance to him, so thought it prudent to rise, bow and give him my name and rank. He looked surprised to find me there, and further surprised by my rank, but returned the courtesy naming himself as Barachon, Lord Steward of Rhudaur. I realised at once that I was in the presence of one of the most powerful men in the realm, a man I had heard so many takes of, but I was determined to hold my nerve nonetheless. 

He took in the scene in the room and frowned, his eyes sharp and keen, belying his age. “So he is gone indeed, one who could never be faulted for his devotion to service, even if his practice of it was often misguided and led us to ruination in the north”. I bridled silently at this but hoped my face had not betrayed my true feelings, and I spoke up, praying my voice would not betray me either. “In the North at least there are still some who would still mourn for him, and he asked me to lay him to rest in the earth of his home if I could. My Lord, please grant me permission and the means to fulfill his dying wishes”.

Barachon’s face darkened, and I felt as if he had read my private thoughts. “Nay, I deny your request. He died without title or priviledge, for they were stripped from him in life and he will not regain them in death. It was enough that he was given leave to see out his days here, comfortable, well provided for and free to do as he wished. Do not gainsay me further on this matter!” I had no difficulty understanding the menace in his voice. He turned to one of his attendants, saying “make arrangements for a simple burial tomorrow”, gave me a token nod and swept back out of the room with his retinue in tow behind him.

Alone again I gave full vent to my rage and grief, and wept profusely until resignation and weariness finally overcame me. Then I set things in order there as best I could and I watched over Angon’s body until dawn, thinking of him until I fell into a fitfull sleep.

The servants and the gravedigger came for him at sunrise and he was borne out of the Citadel and down into the town on a handcart. The burial grounds lay to the east of the town wall, beside the great road. It was a fine summer’s day, the scented morning air full of the promise of heat to come, and filled with birdsong. I helped dig the grave and lay the body in the earth, then we paused awhile in case any others who might have got word of his passing wished to witness his burial. However none came, so I spoke about the man I had known, and about everything he had done for me, and then I said the words of departure for him Then we buried him in a place far from home where few if any would ever remember him. So passed Angon, Lord Of Northford and the Northern Marches, one of the wisest and most noble men I ever knew.


	67. Chapter 67

I returned north without delay, still seething at the way Barachon had dealt with me on the matter of Angon’s burial, and the way he had spoken of him even in death as one who had failed, when I knew the truth of the matter was quite different. A feeling of disillusion and betrayal gnawed at me, for this was all of a piece with what had happened during the campaign against the Hillmen. What and who were we fighting and dying for? I asked myself. I had spent my whole adult life so far as a soldier, but if it was the likes of Barachon that I toiled to serve and defend then perhaps my labour was all in vain and my loyalty had been misplaced. Again I now understood fully why the bitter old timers I had disliked so much in my younger days had spoken the way they had and I also felt anger towards Idhrethil, for she of all people should have been at the burial. But again doubts crept in, perhaps she had not heard the news in time, or had been prevented from attending.

I was welcomed back to Northford Keep with surprise and many questions by Arahael, for this time he had not expected me to tarry nearly so long as I had in Lastbridge. However when he learned what had delayed me there I was instantly absolved of any fault, for I was the first to carry the news of it northward. My sorrow, and also my anger were both shared in equal measure, and later that evening Arahael gathered the men in the Great Hall and told them too, for many had served under Angon and had loved him well. We remembered him, and stood in silence in his memory, and then Arahael said the words of departure for him on his native soil, so in spirit at least his dying wish was observed.

The remainder of that year passed quietly, and still Angmar did not come, so our life of fretful idleness continued. However as winter approached and the weather turned colder I noticed that Arahael had developed a persistent cough, and one that worsened over time rather than clearing up of its own accord. It was soon the case that he would be overcome and doubled up in pain if a fit took him in the midst of a conversation, but old fighter that he was he insisted on making light of it. I could see the ailment was serious and beginning to wear him down, so I went to him and implored him to travel south to seek help, but he would not hear of it. “It is nothing, and will soon pass” he said grimacing, “and if it is something, then so be it. I will not go south like Angon did and die alone, friendless and forgotten in an unfamiliar place. I will remain here, for better or worse, where I have always belonged. I have looked death in the face too often these last few years to fear him any more, and if my time is come then I would rather die in my cot surrounded by friends than be skewered and trampled on some muddy battlefield”. His words shocked me, for I realised then that things must have been far worse than I had realised, and tears sprang to my eyes. But he admonished me for them, saying that this was not the time, and nor was he yet done.

But his time came all too soon, and his body, already lean and battered by a life of constant privation and hardship finally gave out to the illness two weeks before Yule. He passed away in his room, surrounded by friends as he had wished, but it was long and full of distress, and we could do little to ease it at last. It fell to me once again to oversee the burial of one I had loved dearly, and now the world seemed a dark and unrelenting place. All those I had loved and looked to for guidance and protection were gone, and I would now have to make my own way without them. I acted as decisively as I could, sending a messenger south with the news of Arahael’s passing, and requesting further orders, and then we made our way through the deep winter snow to the burial ground on the hillside above the South Road and gave him a send off that he would have been proud of.  
The men, as shocked and saddened as I was by the sudden death of a much loved and admired captain, were compliant enough to begin with where I was concerned, but I soon had to make it clear that I would brook no insubordination or dissent from them by meting our harsh punishments to two miscreants in particular who chose to challenge my authority. Indeed I had no choice but to draw a blade on one of them when things went too far.

My actions appeared to have had the desired effect and life settled back into its normal routine, and if I was not loved by the men at least they knew I would not be gainsaid or shown any disrespect, openly at any rate. The new year was nearly two months old by the time a messenger was able to bring word from Lastbridge, along with some much needed supplies. The message was short and to the point, for it turned out that Arahael would effectively be the last Lord of Northford and henceforth the garrison in the Keep would fall under the command of and report to the Lord Of Bearcliffe instead. We were ordered to remain in post continue our duties until further notice.

I understood only too well what this meant, and it was the news I had expected. There was no instruction to report to my new master, a large man with a sharp manner named Turchon, and I had no doubt he had troubles enough of his own to deal with without adding ours to them. It seemed we watched and guarded the northern borders of the realm in name only now, and the task was no longer deemed important enough to send anyone of rank or stature northward to oversee it. Later that evening, there was a murmur of discontent from the men when I read the order out to them in the great hall, for it was clear they also understood its import.

So we remained at our posts, watching over the silent ruins and empty vale as another year passed, and still our enemy made no move. However in time the men did grow to trust me, for I always did my best to act justly and did not insist on ceremony with them where it served no purpose. Since no further directives came north from our new master with the increasingly erratic supply trains I took it upon myself to grant the men leave, a few dozen at a time, and those who wished to visit Bearcliffe for a week or two were free to do so. Unfortunately not all those who I had allowed south returned, for some of them took the opportunity to desert. Those who did come back brought tales of disturbances and unrest and many rumours about the king dying and the growing strength and influence of the new chieftain in High Burgh.

I became exasperated with the situation and eventually made the journey myself, wishing to attempt to discuss the supply issues and I left one of my most trusted lieutenants in command in my stead. When I arrived there the streets of Bearcliffe were crowded and there were soldiers everywhere. While there had not been any repeat of the previous year’s disorder it was clearly felt that a repetition was likely. The previously well ordered fields of the enclave close to the town walls were now littered with hastily thrown up hovels, and no trees remained within a wide area. The haggard inhabitants of these dwellings stared balefully from their doorways as I passed, both common folk and hillmen amongst them judging from appearances.

I found little welcome at the Keep, and was left waiting in an anteroom without refreshment for most of the day until Turchon finally deigned to see me. I was admitted to his chambers and found him looking harassed and perspiring freely, and his greeting was at best perfunctory. He did not seem interested in receiving a report from me on our current situation, so I got straight to the point about the difficulties we were having with supplies. His response was curt and angry, that we were nothing more than a burden to him and that he had enough difficulties keeping his own companies fed and supplied. The town was becoming increasingly disordered, and he suspected agents from the Shaws were fomenting discontent, despite the fine words pledging loyalty from the new chieftain. I looked at his fat jowly face with its bulging eyes and felt contempt, and anger, and replied with enough insolence to have myself reduced to the ranks yet again. I asked him if he thought the defence of our realm against Angmar was a burden, reminding him that it was a fight that had cost him his own son, and I asked him if he wished to cast that sacrifice aside because he found it too much of a burden. Abandon the watch on the Ford, and the Northmen of Angmar would be able to march unhindered all the way down the Hoarwell Valley to his door. Was that too great a burden? He predictably reacted with fury, ordering me from the chamber and threatening dire consequences for my insubordination, but in the event none were forthcoming, and the situation with our supplies did improve a little afterwards. I returned north disconsolate and feeling hopeless.

The first snows of winter were lying thinly on the ground when our uneventful watch finally ended. It was a cold bright afternoon with a keen wind blowing off the moors and the sentries on the wall saw men approaching and raised the alarm. I had been in the armoury, taking stock of our supplies in that gloomy hall when I heard the horns sounding and immediately went up to the battlements to see what had been sighted. The men, on hearing the alarm immediately fell into the drills we had practised over and over again for such an eventuality, withdrawing into the Keep, closing the gates and assuming their designated positions, something that I noted with some quiet satisfaction. I reached the wall myself, heard the sentry’s report, and looked out to judge the number and disposition of the enemy. To my surprise however, it was not the expected great host from Angmar massed on the north bank of the river that I beheld but a small marching company approaching down the old road from the east.


	68. Chapter 68

We watched the approaching marchers until they disappeared from view below the town walls. The gates had been closed, but were not defended, so it was not long before the new arrivals had scaled the walls and were able to open them from within. Eventually they came into view on the street that led to the square below the gatehouse tower. The sergeants gave a signal for the bowmen stationed in the tower and along the battlements to knock arrows in readiness, but it was I who was to give the order to fire.

They continued marching, weapons sheathed, to well inside the range of our archers, and eventually halted below the gates. They were Hillmen by their garb and appearance, numbering at least sixty, with laden packhorses in their rear. Their leader, a large man wearing good gear stepped forward and called up to where we stood. “Hail men of Northford Keep, we are sent by order of the King and come in peace and friendship as loyal subjects of the King, to offer our aid and support in your lonely vigil here on the northern borders of our land. I am Daelric, brother to Brodir, Chieftain of High Burgh. Let your commander come forth that I may speak to him and show him our credentials”. I stepped forward “I am he” I replied, but he looked surprised. “You seem young to be holding such a position, but so be it. Pray admit us. We wish to share a feast with you and your men, for the hunting has been good along our road, and we have deer and boar to roast”.

I bridled a little at this, for it seemed too plain a trap to offer good eating to hungry men. “Why should I give you my trust? I know you not, whence you come or what your true purpose is and any orders you bear might easily be counterfeit. The last time some of us here faced the soldiery of High Burgh it was at sword and spear point, and we have no reason to love you or trust your word. Forgive our lack of hospitality on this cold evening, but if you wish to come within these walls you will do so unarmed and will all lay your weapons down at our gate. If you do not my archers will fell you where you stand. I gave a hand signal, and all along the battlement bows creaked as they were drawn. Daelric looked angry and surprised, but I gave him no chance to reply, stating bluntly “Drop your weapons or you will die”. “You will regret this boy” he snarled in reply, drawing his sword taking a few paces toward the gate before throwing it down with a clang. He signalled to his men and they all began to follow suit. I called down to the men waiting in the courtyard below. “Open the gate, collect their weapons, search them and then admit them with whatever game they have brought for us to eat. It’s been too long since we dined on roasted meat”. 

I descended to the yard and followed the men out through the gate where they proceeded to follow my orders to the letter, which much shouting and jostling. I found my way to Daelric, who was a head taller than I was and twice as broad. Once again he told me angrily that I would regret my impertinence, and he produced a scroll from within his cloak and handed it to me. I opened it, read it carefully, and had to admit to myself that the order telling me to cede control of the Keep to him looked genuine as far as it went, as did the seal that had closed it. However I neither dared believe that it was nor wished it to be true, and I told him he would remain unarmed and a guest so long as he wished until I received confirmation from my commander in Bearcliffe. “I know not why you came here, but you give every indication from your words and deeds that you speak the truth or something close to it. I give my word that we will not harm you if you give us no reason to. Your weapons will be returned to you if you choose to leave, or if these orders are confirmed, though I can scarce believe that will be the case.” Even as I spoke the words I doubted them, for they were few in number and had both walked into the range of my archers with their weapons sheathed and then given them up with barely a murmur. It would be hard to comprehend but not inconceivable that some kind of deal had been struck between Lastbridge and High Burgh regarding the manning of the Keep, and if so then I was guilty of a major act of discourtesy and insubordination. However I was a soldier, with orders, and until those orders changed beyond all doubt I had no choice but to act as I had.

That night we dined well, roasting the appropriated meats on fires in the courtyard with the Hillmen gathered opposite under the walls. It was the best meal most of us had eaten for quite some time as I did not normally dare send men out hunting in small groups. When they did go out, to collect firewood for example, they did so in numbers which made successful hunting quite impossible. Afterwards I gave the new arrivals one of the dormitories in the East Hall and set a watch on it.

The following morning I wrote a letter to Lord Turchon and sent men southward with it and they returned four days later. I immediately had a sinking feeling about the contents of the scroll they bore as soon as it was handed to me, and I opened it and read it immediately. My worst fears had been confirmed and I barked out an order to my lieutenant who had been waiting nearby to gather all the men who could be spared to the Great Hall immediately.

They greeted the news that the party of Hillmen were to have their weapons returned to them and that their commander, Lord Daelric would now assume command of all within the Keep in a stunned silence. However orders were orders and I told them that however difficult we found them we had to obey, and needed to show the interlopers the meaning of good order and discipline, for were we not one of the best and most experienced companies in the army of Rhudaur? I got a murmur of approval for that one, and another one for promising that I would make sure they did not go short because of the new arivals. From that day forward things went quite a lot better for me with my own men, for it is surprising what a galvanising effect the introduction of a common rival or enemy can have. I bridled silently at the use of the word Lord in the wording of the scroll, for no such honour existed amongst the Hillmen, and the man I faced was no more than the brother of an upstart thane.

However I knew what had to be done, and I set off at once with a party of men to retrieve the confiscated weaponry and return it to its rightful owners, and cede control to them. The Hillmen, sensing that something was in the offing had gathered in the yard, and I walked out to face my humiliation. Daelric, thinking I did not understand him quietly spat a curse in my direction as I walked over to meet him, but his expression suggested he already knew what I was about to tell him. I stopped and saluted. “Lord Daelric, I have confirmation of the orders you bore from Bearcliffe which instruct me to not only to admit you and your men to the Keep, but also acknowledge you as our new commander. I am sure you will understand why I did not do so at first at my own behest, but we live in troubled times. My men and I are at your service”. I did my best to keep my tone neutral and flat but I am not sure I was completely successful in doing so, for I could happily have drawn my sword there and then and wiped the triumphant grin from his face. He laughed, and called out to his men in hill tongue than the little westerman had seen sense and that they were now in charge of the castle. He brushed me aside and strode forward towards the great hall, his men following close behind, shouting and laughing and some of them taunting us.

In hindsight that was the moment that nigh on twenty years of fighting, loss and sacrifice in defence of the north came to an end. We were finally defeated not by some last great assault of the enemy, but by the complacency, expediency and wishful thinking of those who ruled over us in Lastbridge.


	69. Chapter 69

We quickly settled into an uneasy coexistence with our new commander and garrison members, who had not forgiven us for the discourtesies we had subjected them to when they arrived. Fortunately there was room enough for all of us in the Keep and they continued to billet separately from us, although Daelric insisted on taking the Lord’s apartments for himself. I had taken the precaution of removing the contents of the library with its numerous ancient and valuable volumes elsewhere before he took possession, but if he objected to or even noticed this appropriation he did not say so.

We were however now beholden to them for our food and supplies as the agreement that had been struck in handing control of the Keep to them now gave High Burgh the responsibility of keeping the garrison supplied rather than Bearcliffe. I was naturally concerned about this in the circumstances and feared that we would be kept short and hungry, but to my surprise we soon found the opposite to be the case. We ate better than we had for a very long time, and the supply trains of laden pack animals came regularly and reliably from the north east. However they were frequently accompanied by further reinforcements to the Hillmen‘s numbers, and it was not long before we were outnumbered.

Even though Daelric had not used his control of our rations against us, there was still a good deal of mistrust and rivalry, especially on the part of the new arrivals. My dealings with him were kept to a minimum, and the duties of my men limited by choice to sentry duty and menial tasks around the keep. The Hillmen on the other hand, once their numbers were sufficient, resumed patrols in the area and regularly crossed the river and travelling up the vales but if they saw any sign of the enemy they did not report it to us. Although there was little direct threat of hostility from the Hillmen it soon felt as if we were prisoners in our own stronghold. We did not mix with or share any duties with them, I ordered the men to move around the Keep in groups, remain armed at all times and we kept the doors to our halls barred at night and posted guards. I abandoned my room and slept with my men, for those of us who were clearly Dunedain in appearance, myself included, were often on the receiving end of dark looks and muttered threats as we went about our business and I did not wish to risk being murdered in the night, far from help. The men were restive and unhappy, some openly claiming that they had been betrayed and abandoned to their fate by the the King, and since I had great sympathy with their sentiments I did not gainsay or chastise them for doing so. Instead I counselled patience, as we were not as yet directly threatened, nor could we contemplate the disgrace of fleeing our posts in such circumstances, or the mockery of the Hillmen that would follow such an act.

Ironically, though there was never more than guarded caution in my dealings with Daelric I found that he was actually quite a genial and intelligent man, and as far as I could tell was well loved and respected by his own men. In other circumstances I think we might have become friends, but such is the way of it for a soldier, chance and fate dictate who we fight for and make enemies of those who otherwise might have been fast friends. I did notice a few of the Hillmen speaking in familiar North Shaw accents, and was tempted to ask after my family, but refrained, for to do so would not only have revealed my ability to speak their tongue, but also put my family at risk, and me as well, especially if it somehow became known that I had fought at Greenhow.

The year waned, but there had been a good harvest in the Shaws and when the snows came the Keep’s storerooms were well stocked and for the first winter in a long time we did not go short or hungry. However the snow made an already bad situation worse, forcing the men to remain largely idle and they became even more restive and despondent. As ever I did my best to keep them occupied, but their frustration eventually boiled over and their was a fight between a small group of my men and some Hillmen who had offended them in some way, and as a result two of the Hillmen were killed. The mood in the Keep immediately turned ugly, and our halls were surrounded by an angry heavily armed mob. The men had barred the doors and were preparing for a fight when Daelric appeared and ordered me to open the door and come forward to explain myself. I knew I had no option but to comply, or face a possible massacre, so I ordered my reluctant men to open the door, which would have afforded little protection to us in any case. 

There followed one of the most difficult moments of command I ever had to face. The men involved in the fracas, one of them badly wounded, were brought forward and asked to give their account, along with the surviving members of the group they had faced. It was immediately clear that the attack had been unprovoked, and that the fault lay entirely with my own men, one of whom was a particularly hot headed sergeant who had already caused me a few problems in the past. I knew there could only be one outcome in this case, and Daelric also knew it only too well. I stood frozen, my men at my back, facing him and his soldiers, knowing that things stood on a knife edge. If I refused it would come to a fight, and Daelric would be within his rights to execute anyone who actually survived it as a mutineer, so we would all be doomed. But I also knew that at this moment that my men would not see it that way and would take seeing their brothers, however culpable, handed over to those they saw as the enemy very badly. I let the rising anger I felt at the act of stupidity that had put us all at risk seethe inside me, gritted my teeth, and cursing pronounced sentence on the troublemakers. I told Daelric they were his to take, but justice would have to be swift and clean. Some of my men made as if to defy me but I turned on them in a rage and asked them if they too wished to lose their heads. The condemned men, the hale ones still armed, made as if to fight off any attempt to take them, but I ordered them surrounded and drew my own blade on them. Very fortunately for me, and for all the others, enough men heeded my order and they were disarmed and handed over, cursing and weeping to the Hillmen.

Now heedless for my own safety, I strode after them and loudly demanded of Daelric that justice be served immediately and in my sight, and I followed as the guilty men were dragged to the icy courtyard and executed in turn, their hot blood steaming in the frigid air. When all was done I grimly nodded acknowledgement to Daelric and made my way back to the hall. There had clearly been a heated discussion going on in my absence, for the sudden silence as I entered was deafening. But I vented my rage on them, threatening to have the neck of any one of them who chose to put the rest of us in mortal danger again by disobeying orders. But I also promised them that enough was enough, and I would send word to Bearcliffe as soon as the road became passable again asking for us to be relieved from a situation that was rapidly becoming dangerous and intolerable. Fortunately for me my words appeared to have the desired effect, for none dared openly challenge me. I believe that after they had some time to reflect on what had happened that they may have understood that I had been given little choice but to act as I had.

The thaw came quickly the following spring, and even before I could act myself a very nervous errand rider arrived from Bearcliffe. But to my disappointment he did not seek me out, but went instead to Daelric to deliver his message. My summons came shortly afterwards and I made my way there, flanked by my lieutenants. Daelric was almost jovial, and handed the scroll over to me to read for myself. The order was plain enough, but still came as a shock, for the Northford Company was ordered to decamp with all due haste and march for Lastbridge and Lord Daelric and his Hillmen would continue their duties without us. We would not be replaced.


	70. Chapter 70

Two days later we formed up under the baleful watch of the Hillmen who had gathered to witness our departure, and at my command marched out of the Keep for the very last time. Winter still held sway under a leaden sky, the old cobbled streets were covered in slush and the remnants of the snow contrasted brightly with the blackened rubble of the ruins as we marched through them. Here and there bramble bushes and as yet leafless saplings broke the sad monotony of the ruins, and as we descended towards the gate I remembered the places we passed as they had once been, and all the memories that had marked them for me. The men were silent, for this had always been home to most of them too, and for all the relief that our virtual incarceration in the Keep had ended I think we all realised that it was unlikely that any of us would ever return there.

I called a halt on the road below the burial ground, and allowed any who wished to say a final farewell to their loved ones there to do so. Most of the men took the opportunity, and I joined them. I had not visited the place for a long time, it was grown wild and unkempt just like the ruins of the town, and I felt a little pang of remorse as I stood quietly by the engraved marker stone that indicated where the mortal remains of my mother, grandmother and little Lathra lay. Fifteen years had now passed since I had lost them, and the memory of them felt like something from another lifetime, but it was still raw enough for me to shed a last few tears for them and repeat my unfulfilled vow of vengeance. Then, conscious of the need to reach the old staging post by nightfall, I drew myself up, called on the men to return to the road and we resumed our march.

On every journey down the valley I would out of habit look across the river up Rushwater Vale as we passed, and think of what was and what could have been, and this time was no exception. I noted the Brightwater too, and thought once again of Idhrethil and Angon, but my mood was too dark to be troubled for long. We made good time the rest of that day, but it was almost dark by the time we reached the ruins of the old way station and made camp. I posted a watch, and took my turn after midnight under a bright moon and countless stars, with the still air sharp with chill and the earth turned hard as iron. I never really minded sentry duty on nights like that, though it was necessary to keep moving to stay warm, and away from the distractions and duties of daytime I had time to think. I did not know why we had been withdrawn to Lastbridge, but I feared matters in the Kingdom might be coming to a head. We had not had any direct news from Bearcliffe for a long time, and had only heard what the Hillmen wished to tell us, which could not be relied on. I had hoped to speak with the errand rider who had brought our orders, to gain some idea of what had passed, but he had fled south again as soon as his duty had been discharged. It was clear that the idea of being alone in a keep full of Hillmen had made him fearful, and why not, for we had not long since been in open war with them. 

The sun was setting the following evening by the time we came to the earthwork and watch tower that marked the northern boundary of the Bearcliffe enclave. A long winter of relative inactivity and better than usual eating had taken its toll on the men and we had increasingly struggled to maintain a good marching pace as the day had gone on. This concerned me, and I was determined to do something about it once we got to Lastbridge. However we were expected and the gate was opened to admit us without hesitation. I spoke to the sergeant in command and he told me that arrangements had been made to billet us at the Keep that night, news which was welcomed by the men, too used to having to camp in the open air when they passed through Bearcliffe. The hovels and hungry folk I had seen outside the town walls on my previous visit the year before seemed to have multiplied and spread, and the deepening darkness along the road was punctuated by a thousand smoky fires, and occasional shouted curses in both the common and hill tongue came our way as we passed through. 

The town gates had been closed for the night by the time we arrived but were reopened for us after a short delay, and we entered and made our way slowly up the steep hill to the Keep below the lowering crag. The streets were surprisingly empty for the time of night, and I saw none abroad as we passed apart from a small group of soldiers, which made me wonder if a curfew had been enforced. The Keep was crowded to bursting with soldiers, and a hive of activity just as I remembered the one in Northford had been in my youth, and it appeared that some of the local men were also preparing to march south. We were shown to our billet, which ended up being somewhat too crowded for comfort and served a scanty meal which raised much comment amongst the men. I however did not partake of it, for a messenger came asking for me by name and passed on an invitation from my old friend Norchon to join him in his quarters. I had not seen him for a very long time and accepted with enthusiasm, for I knew I could rely on him to give me reliable news and honest opinion on how matters lay, both of which I lacked.

I found him looking tired and careworn, but his dry wit was still very much intact and he remarked immediately that it looked like I had indeed drawn a longer straw than he when I was sent to while out my days in idleness in the peaceful north. We laughed and embraced warmly and he offered me some food, which I was grateful for my conscience’s sake was little better than the fare the men had received. I told him I was hungry for news as well as my supper and begged him to tell me all he knew of what had passed in recent times while I ate, which he was happy to do.

Things had continued to worsen in the rest of Rhudaur and rumour held that the king was dying and that Barachon now effectively ruled in his stead. If it were not for the renewed loyalty and generosity of the Hillmen there would have been widespread starvation during the winter, but even so the numbers of the impoverished and destitute grew ever greater, and there was frequent unrest and disorder as a result, particularly in Bearcliffe and Lastbridge, but few other places had been immune. The kingdom had run out of coin, could not pay its debts and fewer and fewer of its subjects could still afford to pay their tithes and taxes. His conclusion was that ruin beckoned unless something could be done, and done quickly. He did not think Lastbridge trusted Chieftain Brodir, but now had little choice but to accept his aid and his professions of loyalty. The handing over of the garrison in Northford was only one example of this, and Norchon agreed wholeheartedly with me that the outcome of this act was a potential disaster, and a terrible betrayal.

He was however just as mystified as I by the sudden order to relocate men to Lastbridge, which made no sense in the current situation. It was not just the Northford Company that was marching south, for we were to be joined the following day by four of the seven Bearcliffe Companies including his own. He feared that it would leave his garrison dangerously undermanned if there was any more trouble. This was news to me indeed, and I remarked sourly that nigh on one thousand men should have been marching north, not south at this moment in time. For if our suspicions were indeed correct and the Hillmen played us false, and worse still were now actually in league with Angmar, then handing defence of the ford over to them would now mean that men and supplies would be able to travel to the Shaws by the shortest and most direct route rather than having to cross the Ettenmoors and ford the Hoarwell high up its vale in the foothills of the Misty Mountains. I shuddered at the thought and prayed that it was not the case. 

I did not tarry with him long, I was weary from the unaccustomed marching and we would both have to rise early the following morning. Norchon’s news had been worse than I could possibly have imagined and once again I was filled with despair as to what might lie ahead. I remembered Angon’s words regarding the burden the young such as I would have to face and thought how wise his words had been on that score. But I was also glad that he was now at peace and did not live to see them come true, and knew that fate could easily lie in store for me too. I was now twenty four years old and had already cheated death by narrow margins many times, and it might be too much to expect my luck to hold for much longer.


	71. Chapter 71

We arrived in Lastbridge two days later, weary and in sombre mood and made our way through the crowded streets to the Fortress. Here in the streets of our principal city it seemed there had been trouble, as small groups of soldiers stood guard on the square and in the vicinity of important buildings and some of those who were forced to stand aside for us as we marched were clearly resentful and hostile, though they did not voice their thoughts directly. It struck me how much the mood had changed even in the time since I had last been there, and was all of a piece with what Norchon had told me. Many of my men had never been as far south as this and Lastbridge was a wonder and a marvel to them, but I cautioned them to be on their guard if the opportunity came for them to spend any time off down in the town.

The Fortress was as crowded as I had ever seen it, and the great courtyard was filled with activity. Our companies were directed to one of the dormitory blocks, and being one of the few of our number to have been there before it fell to me to lead the circuitous way there. We reported to the duty captain, installed ourselves in one of the halls, and were brought an evening meal which compared poorly to the one that had disappointed us so much in Bearcliffe a few days previously. Nobody could tell us how long we would be there, so I told my men to assume that it would be a while, and to make themselves as comfortable as possible. As we settled down for our first night the thought crossed my mind that I ought to go to the citadel and ask after the Lady Idhrethil, but dismissed the thought as quickly as it come to mind. She was a married woman now, and it would have been most improper, regardless of the fact that she might have no desire to see me, or even remember who I was for that matter.

We had been there for five days, time I had spent exercising and drilling my men, when an order came for all captains and lieutenants to attend the great hall in the citadel that evening and to have the men ready to march early the following morning. A wildfire of speculation arose in the ranks as to what the possible meaning and destination of this could be, and for the life of me I could think of none, unless we were going to march on High Burgh again. I estimated that there must have been around five thousand gathered in the place, and from what I could tell they were all experienced companies, veterans of the campaigns in the Shaws and the north. I glimpsed Idrethil’s husband Belegon at one point, and also reacquainted myself joyfully with Galunir of Watersmeet. Daeron was not with him, having remained to carry out his duties as Lord, but he brought glad tidings of him. He was a father again and had another on the way, and it sounded like life had truly blessed him. Some of the men Arahael had sent south with their families from Northford after the seige had come with him however, and also brought good report of how things had gone for them since. Though I looked for him Cenric was not amongst them and I learned that Daeron had appointed him as Master of Arms in his household at Watersmeet, a high honour especially for someone of Hillman stock.

I left the men readying things for our imminent departure in the dormitory hall and set off for the Citadel at the appointed hour with my lieutenant, a grizzled but loyal and reliable man named Laefric. Whilst we had done our best to make ourselves presentable we were still in our faded and worn battle dress, since we had no other. I noted immediately as we converged with the others at the gatehouse that most of them seemed to be in much better gear and was filled with dismay, but there was nothing to be done about it now. We filed in and followed the others to a part of the Citadel that I had not seen before, and assumed it must be close to the royal apartments and throne room. It was clear some effort had been gone to, for the place was lit by an uncommon number of torches, and was not nearly so dilapidated as some of the other parts I had visited. We walked up wide corridors hung with tapestries until I heard a hubbub of voices and could glimpse the flickering light of a great fire up ahead through a pair of wide doors. A herald was calling out the names of those who were entering, and when our turn came he announced us too, calling out “Captain Esteldir and Lieutenant Laefric of Northford Company” in a clear voice. I felt a small swell of pride at that, and hoped that any who were listening might take heed and wonder at our deeds and what we had lived through.

The hall made ours in Northford look like a hovel, and the roof, supported by mighty carved stone buttresses rose to an immense height which was almost lost in shadow. Up on a dais stood the high table where the King and his household were to be seated, and then below on the polished stone floor were row upon row of benches and tables set out for a feast. A trunk burned in the largest fireplace I had ever seen set in the midst of one long wall, it cast its uncertain light over the whole scene and its heat could be felt even at a distance. All around the walls were more tapestries, of immense size and great workmanship, depicting all manner of tales, but again I could see many were in an advanced state of decrepitude. We ourselves were shown to one of the benches at the rear of the hall, and settled down to survey the scene and partake of the ale that had been left on the table.

The table on the dais remained empty, and we soon ran out of ale, though no more seemed to be forthcoming. Finally the hubbub of chatter in the hall was interrupted by the herald striking his staff on the floor, and he called out to us to rise for the King. There was a sudden din of benches being dragged back and then silence fell. Behind me a further set of great doors groaned open, and Elion, King of Rhudaur entered slowly, supported on either arm by attendants. He had once clearly been a strong and handsome man, but it was all in ruins now, and his face was grey and lined and his eyes full of unmistakeable suffering. At his side walked his son the Prince who I knew, and behind his sister the Princess arm in arm with Lord Berthedir. I felt a surge of hatred when I beheld him, and another when the old spider Barachon entered after him supported on a stick. Then followed others who I did not know, and a surprisingly large number of them. However among the last was one I did recognise, and the sight of her again made me catch my breath. Lady Idrethil, her face grave and beautiful as ever and wearing a fine dress came in arm in arm with her detestable husband, who had gained a deal of weight since I had last seen him. She kept her eyes fixed to the front, but I thought she looked sad, and I felt a pang of affection and desire for her when I saw it.

The royal household made their way slowly to the dais and once they were all installed the old custom of facing the west was observed and then everyone was seated and the servants began to bring in the food, starting at the top table. The process was achingly slow, for their were too few serving, and the royal household had long finished eating by the time it was our turn. I was hungry, and had held high hopes for what we might be served at a royal feast, but I was to be sadly disappointed. It was clear that all the choice cuts of meat had been used up by the time they got to us, and all we got was bones and leftovers which were stone cold. One of the men seated on my left hand threw his down on the floor in disgust, but I had starved and knew better than to miss a meal the night before a march and I ate mine with as much grace as I could muster.

Shortly afterwards the staff rang once again on the floor and the herald prayed silence for Prince Eldir, who rose, bowed to his father and strode to the front of the dais. “Men of Rhudaur, hearken unto me. For too long have we suffered at the hands of others, but the tide shall now be turned, and indeed is already turning in our favour. For we have subdued the rebel Hillmen, and driven back the forces of the usurper in the north from our borders. Now peace reigns once more across our fair land, it is time to settle old scores, and take back what is rightfully ours. Here tonight, I see before me the finest, most experienced soldiers in the Kingdom, tempered in battle, fierce, loyal and brave, the finest sons of Rhudaur. We have long prepared our plans in secret and will strike fast, for victory will be ours before our enemy can prepare. The tale of our glorious victory and our renewed standing in the north kingdoms will live long in song and tale. Brothers, it is our time! Who is with me? Tomorrow we cross the river and take back Amon Sul!” 

The place erupted, the men roaring their approval, beating the tables with their flagons, and the clamour continued for a good while. I sat quietly, unable to take in what I had heard, for whilst our realm held the possession of that ancient tower and the stone within it by Cardolan or Arthedain a great injustice, we had never been able to hold them for long and I knew from reading my history book how great the cost had always been in men. But Cardolan had been brought to its knees by the constant incursions from Angmar, so perhaps it would be an opportune moment, despite our own parlous state. Maybe possession of the seeing stone would mark a change in our fortunes? I could not bring myself to believe it however and could only see this adventure as an act of desperate insanity or delusion. To actually say so would have been dangerous but I could not bear to remain where I was and excused myself, saying I was in need of the privy. I left the hall through the doorway behind me and saw another opening on the far side of the antechamber which led onto a terrace. I walked out gratefully into the freezing night air and relative silence and tried to make sense of what I had just heard.


	72. Chapter 72

Behind me in the hall I heard the noise subside, someone speaking and then applause which gradually melted into a repeated chant of “Rhudaur, Rhudaur” from those assembled within. I guessed that the King and his household had descended from the dais and were now leaving the hall. After a few minutes from my hidden vantage point the dark of terrace I saw the King appear, walking slowly with his helpers, a blissful smile on his ruined face, but then he was quickly obscured from view by others in his party and I turned away. The terrace overlooked another courtyard, surrounded on all sides by windowed walls, and for all I knew it might have been the one where Angon and I had shared lunch three years previously, but I could not tell for sure. I had a very bad feeling about the adventure we were just about to embark on, though the idea of crossing the river and travelling west would have thrilled me in any other circumstances. I could only think that the King was indeed dying, and wanted to seize one last chance to avenge the defeat that had nearly cost him his life in his youth. It made no sense otherwise.

“Esteldir?” A soft voice shook me suddenly from my gloomy reverie, and I spun round to see who the speaker could be. There, framed in the light from the doorway, stood Idhrethil, so beautiful and sad that I could hardly draw breath. “My lady?” I replied, the words almost sticking in my throat as I uttered them. She approached and clasped my hands in hers, smiling. “How fare you? So much time has passed, and so much has changed, little of it for the better. I cannot tarry here, for I will soon be missed, but I will say this. I fear greatly for the outcome of this expedition, and for all those who must take part in it. I pray that you will stay safe and come back to us”. Her eyes were deep pools and they brimmed with tears, and overwhelmed with feeling for her and no longer caring about the outcome I let go of her hands, threw my arms around her and held her tightly, and to my undying joy she reciprocated enthusiastically and buried her head in my shoulder and began to sob. The scent of her hair was intoxicating and I smoothed it gently to console her. After a moment she drew away from me, smiling sadly and with tears running down her cheeks. “I must go” she said softly, and kissed me gently on the lips. “Stay safe for me”. She pulled away, wiped her face and turned away, walking quickly away back into the antechamber.

I stood for a long moment trying to take in the import of what had just happened, and then fell to my knees in the darkness with my back against the carved stone parapet and wept myself for a little while. All the anguish and doubt I had felt for so long had all been in vain, for it was now clear as day to me that everything that I had felt for her had been returned in equal measure. I became calm, rose to my feet and composed myself. I very much had something to live for again, and I would return safe to her. Regardless of circumstances I would be there for her, and that would be enough.

Early the following morning we assembled in the great yard in the dark in the pouring rain. It was not an auspicious start, and my men at least had taken the idea of marching on Amon Sul with as much incredulity as I had. I did not attempt to paint the picture any brighter for them, but told them that it would be a quick march and surprise attack. One of the old veterans piped up with “haven’t they got the magic stone? Won’t they see us coming?” to general laughter and I confess I joined in and replied that I hoped they had forgotten to look in it, but I thought the man did have a point. We marched down through the empty streets of the town, through the square and across the ancient bridge. The guards on the West Gate wished us luck as we passed and then we were clear of the walls and marching at last through the former lands of Western Rhudaur.

As the gloomy daylight grew I could see that we passed through a hilly land that still showed traces of former habitation, a low stone wall here and a pile of rubble there amongst the scrub and thicket. The road though ran largely as straight and true here as it did to the east, and despite the neglect and lack of use was still in good repair and largely free of encroaching grass and weed. Despite the poor weather we still made good time but it was a long while before the first halt was called. We marched in the van of the column behind the Prince and his guard and commanders, who were all mounted on large horses. Scouts ran ahead on foot, skirting the road to check for signs of any enemy, and returned periodically to report, but it was unlikely that we would meet anyone hostile so close to the river.

The rain never let up and by the time we halted for the night and set up camp under the eaves of a wood we were all cold and miserable, and the lack of a camp fire to take the edge off our discomfort made it all the worse. It did stop raining overnight, but the following morning after we had been marching for an hour or so it returned and continued relentlessly. The second day’s march ended up being very much like the first, except that we now passed through wild empty lands and the monotony meant that any pleasure I had gained from seeing new places soon wore off and I ended up oblivious of my surroundings, trudging along trying to stay warm.

Late in the afternoon that day we rounded a slight bend in the road and saw a low hill topped with a ruin ahead, with the traces of more old buildings lower down and to either side of the road. I assumed this to be what remained of the old way station and village of Halfway Hill, and thought that my uncle must be buried somewhere nearby. The rain did not relent, but I received the chance of a brief respite when I was ordered to Berthedir’s encampment to receive my orders for the assault on the watchtower. There would be no avoiding him now, and if he remembered me then there were certain to be some awkward questions. However I was a captain now, with an exemplary record, and there was always a chance the prince would vouch for me if I needed it.

I entered the tent with the others who had been called at the same time and found not only Berthedir within, but the Prince and also Belegon and Edwenion. When it was our turn I bowed and announced myself, and a look of recognition and surprise immediately crossed several faces within. However he continued with the briefing, telling us what was known of the tower and its defences, how the battle would be conducted and assigning the Northford company a position right in the centre of the assault, just as I had expected. Once everybody had received their orders we were dismissed, in time for the next group, and I turned to go, half hoping nothing would be said, but I was to be disappointed.

“You there, of Northford, a word please” said Berthedir tartly. “I heard you announced at the feast, but could not credit that it could possibly be the same man, and that it must be another of the same name. But it seems I was mistaken in the matter. Explain how one moment you are reduced to the ranks in disgrace and presumed lost in battle and yet you turn up several years later as a captain in Northford?” I held his gaze levelly and without fear, for I felt great anger towards all of those present. “It is so my Lord” I replied, “I fought honourably at Deepvale, though none remain to vouch for me, and only escaped death by a mischance. I tried to return to High Burgh but found the road well guarded and perilous, so attempted to reach Northford instead and succeeded thanks to the help of loyal Hill Folk who saved me from the snows and sent me on my way again when I had recovered. Lord Berenion wrote to you, and you corroborated my story, and as he was in need of men then engaged me to his own service rather than send me back whence I had come, as was his right. I have served loyally since, first as lieutenant to the late Captain Arahael, and Prince Eldir who stands here present commended us at the East Gate of Northford after we captured and opened it to lift the seige”. The Prince, gazed hard at me, as if trying to remember but said “it is so, that was a great deed”. Berthedir looked discomfited at this turn of events, but I spoke directly to the Prince before he had the chance to say anything further. “May I return to my men my leige? They are weary from marching and we have much to do”. He assented with a nod, and I bowed, turned on my heels and left as quickly as I decently could, meeting the next group of captains gathering outside for their briefing. I nodded acknowledgement to them and then went on my way, filled with renewed hatred for both Berthedir and especially Belegon, who had regarded me with undisguised loathing all the while I had been in the tent. If only he knew what I knew, then he would truly have cause to hate me, I thought to myself and smiled ruefully.

We marched for another two days in that rain, and halted early on the last, within two hours march of our destination, but hopefully out of sight. The scouts reported that all was quiet ahead, and that there was no sign that we had been discovered. However the men were cold, wet, hungry and already half exhausted as a result of the long march such bad conditions, and I knew that my own men were not in a fit state to give the best account of themselves if it was going to come to a fight. However I did my best to raise their spirits and did what I had always done on the eve of a battle, walking from group to group, speaking to them, encouraging them and making sure my sergeants understood what was expected. Satisfied I had done all I could I settled down for the night, trying as best I could to get comfortable in my sodden gear, but I slept fitfully at best and woke frequently, shivering in my blanket. When dawn came it was a relief to be able to stand and try and get warm, and I saw that at long last the clouds had cleared away and that a watery sun was climbing into a blue sky at our backs as we looked westward along the road. I had long been able to remain calm the morning before a battle, but that day I felt nothing but trepidation, for everything about this journey so far had made me uneasy and I feared death lay at the end of it.


	73. Chapter 73

We formed up and set off on the final leg of our march, and at least the marching itself helped to warm us. The land hereabouts was fairly flat and nondescript, for we had left more wooded lands further back along the road and now crossed a gently rolling landscape of scrubby grassland, thicket, and the occasional stand of larger trees. We crested a rise, and saw in the distance a line of hills that marched northward. On the summit of the southernmost, a finger rose stark against the bright blue morning sky. There it was at last, the ancient watchtower of Amon Sul, built in the early days of the North Kingdom to house one of the great seeing stones, and our destination. A murmur went up along the column as it came into view, there was an almost unconscious quickening of pace and I for one gripped my sword hilt a little tighter.

On the far side of the rise the road dropped steadily down into a wide vale and then climbed gradually back up the far side, steepening as it went. In the bottom a sluggish brook meandered between marshy banks and the road crossed it over a small single arched stone bridge. As we approached it I fancied there might be be the ruins of some long forgotten inn or farmstead beside it, but it was hard to tell for sure in the tangle of briars and birch trees that grew there. If so it must once have been a pleasant spot.

Suddenly out of nowhere in the still morning air a great horn sounded, and others replied, and I knew at once that they were not ours. Horns sounded down our own column in reply and the mounted vanguard quickly trotted their horses forward ahead of us and we followed, breaking into a jog to keep pace with them. Half the host were still yet to cross the bridge, and if we were about to engage an as yet unseen enemy we would need to make room for them quickly and form up on firmer ground. Eventually coming to a halt, we piled our packs and began to form up into battle order, though there had been no exact plans for this eventuality, and waited for our enemy to come into view. Galunir and the men of Lastbridge were on our left hand, and one of the Bearcliffe companies on our other. Prince Eldir began to ride up and down the lines as they were forming up, exhorting the men, but then he suddenly halted and fell silent. 

Little by little a mighty host had begun to appear on the western rim of the vale above us, until they filled it from end to end, and even if they stood only a few deep I knew straight away that we were heavily outnumbered. I caught my breath in dismay and awe, for to my eye it looked like a host out of a tale of the elder days. In their centre fluttered the sable banner of Arthedain, and beside it the otherwise identical blue banner of Cardolan, for Rhudaur alone and our prideful first king had abandoned the proud device of the house of Isildur and replaced it with a comparatively rustic rampant black bear on a blood red field. Their companies of foot stood neatly formed up, and even at that distance I could see that even the foot soldiers wore plate and bore gilded shields. Worse still for us, on the left flank of the main host a great mass of horsemen, mounted knights under the banner of Arthedain milled and prepared to charge down onto us. When I saw these I knew we could not prevail and that the day was truly lost, and I knew real fear. 

I mastered myself as best I could and turned to speak to my men, ignoring the frantic shouted orders coming from the Lord at my back. “Lads, we’re up against it today and no mistaking. The only way we’re going to have a chance of coming out of this in one piece is if we keep our nerve stick together. May the Valar show us mercy this day”. I looked on their faces, tense, haunted and fearful, with love and sadness. We had been through so much together to come this far and it seemed unfair that we might die here today, so far from home. I was about to continue, but more horns sounded and the enemy host began their slow march down the far slope, and the massed horsemen on the flank began their first charge. There was to be no preliminary parley or bargaining today.

They crashed into our lines before they had fully formed up, and with at least a third or more of our strength still on the wrong side of the bridge and powerless to act, including most of our archers. I ordered my men to plant their spears and hold, and to their credit they did, and the horsemen that came our way in the first wave shied clear of us in favour of places in the line that were weaker and less organised, and they fell on our few horsemen with a vengeance. Wheeling away and sweeping back up the hill, their foot and archers who had been advancing in the meantime came to a halt within bowshot of us. I braced myself, for of all things in battle I had always feared arrow shot most of all, and then a storm was unleashed over us. I took a shaft right in the centre of my shield that narrowly missed my arm and almost unbalanced me, and all around me men who were bravely holding their positions were being struck and falling. I dropped my shield, badly shaken. Again and again they fired salvos towards us, taking a heavy toll and then the foot were advancing on us, shield to shield with spears levelled. Momentarily I admired their organisation and discipline, and thought how sad it was to be fighting such fine Dunedain soldiers, and then our lines met in a thunder of clashing steel and the screaming of dying men and all such thoughts were put aside.

Though we were weary and less well equipped than our foe, our companies did nonetheless give a good account of themselves that day, and for a while we held our ground even when the rest of our host had begun to falter and fall back. However when I saw on my left hand that the men of Cardolan had broken through our lines and were now advancing towards the bridge I decided that we had done what we could, and I screamed at my men to fall back. Worse still, the massed horsemen in the distance were wheeling around into our rear and I saw immediately that the greater part of our forces that were still in the field were now in real danger of being cut off. We retreated, fighting as we went, but it was not long before the orderly retreat turned into a headlong rout. We reached the marshy ground near the river and plunged into it laboriously before leaping into the icy waist deep water. Still we were pursued, and the archers continued to fire on us, arrows splashing down around us into the water and burying themselves up to the fletchings in the soft mud of the bank. We gained the far side, fewer in number, and clambered up it, chilled to the bone and gasping for breath. I was already desperately weary and as frightened as I had ever been in my life, though what remained of my Company followed me still and I mastered myself for their sake.

A quick glance told me the enemy had taken the bridge and poured across it, and they now went in pursuit of the largest remnant of our forces who were fleeing eastward back up the road. I could not tell for sure but it looked like a number of those who had fought on our left hand, including many Watersmeet men, had been encircled, and had laid down their weapons. I knew not at the time whether they had been spared or put to the sword. For our own part it seemed our immediate pursuit was at an end, for in those who we had faced had deemed their task well done and had chosen not to follow us into the water. We continued our flight, labouring now, in small groups, following the vale ever northward away from the road where the main part of the pursuit continued. The vale grew shallower, and to my relief its course swung round to the north east after a while, shielding us at last from the sight of our enemy. We found ourselves among thickets of trees, and eventually I called a halt to what had become little more than a stagger, and we fell to the ground and rested for a long while until the chill late afternoon air began to bite into our damp gear. Satisfied that we were no longer for the moment pursued, I took stock of those who were in the immediate vicinity, perhaps forty or fifty men at most, a mix of those I knew as my own and some from other companies. I roused them and gathered them together, and noted that none there bore the insignia of anything more than a sergeant, so took it upon myself to assume command. I told them that we would remain where we were for the night and strike out eastward in the morning. Even without with the risk of discovery if we had lit a fire, dry wood would have been in short supply after all the rain we had endured, so we spent another miserable and uncomfortable night, with our stomachs grumbling and dreaming of fire and a hot meals, but grateful that we still lived.


	74. Chapter 74

I slept fitfully, and during the moments when I was awake and shivering in the cold my thoughts were all of Idhrethil and I wanted to see her again more than anything in the world. We were a very long way from home, with no supplies and several of the men carrying wounds, but the memory of her pleading for me to return filled me with determination and purpose. I knew I must regain Lastbridge, for everything I lived for waited for me there.

The sun rose over a frosted landscape shrouded in mist, and it would have been a fine late winter morning in any other circumstances, but here there was no comfort to be found in it. I roused the men, whose numbers had been swelled by other stragglers before dark and since sunrise, asked them to gather to me and told them what I purposed. We would head westward through the trackless waste for two or three days and then when the land began to grow steeper we would turn south and aim to rejoin the road somewhere near Halfway Hill if it proved safe to do so. I told them I did not hold them and they were free to leave and make their own way if they saw fit, but I would do my utmost to bring all safely home if they remained with me, hale or halt. There was a general murmur of approval and we set off. We made painfully slow progress the first day, and as the sun was setting in the west the distant line of hills and the tower standing in defiant isolation were still visible in the distance. During my service in the forests of the north I had learnt by necessity how to live off the land, but we were too numerous and ill equipped to have any hope of hunting game, and it was a poor season for finding things that grew. We did however manage to gather some nuts and roots as we went, but they were thin pickings and poor eating and there were not enough to go round. I and any of the others who knew what to look for did keep our eyes open as we went, for hunger gnawed at us constantly.

We spent another freezing night without a fire, and another day trudging slowly through the bleak empty landscape. The road could occasionally be glimpsed to the south when we were on higher ground, and once or twice I fancied I could see figures moving eastward along it, but whether they were our own men or the enemy I could not tell. When I looked at the exhausted ragged men clustered together around me in the small wood we had chosen as cover for the night it made me wonder what had happened to all the rest of the men in my company. I could not contemplate the idea that they had all been slain during the battle and retreat, for if it was the case then I would truly have betrayed my promise to them by insisting on standing and fighting for too long.

The third day’s march began like the previous two, under a frost and blue skies, but by mid morning it had clouded over and the rain began to fall again. One of the men died in the night, perhaps from cold and exhaustion, and knowing we had not the tools or strength to offer him a proper burial I instead instructed the men to cut sod and cover him with that instead. I said the words of departure for him, but nobody present knew him or his name and history. That set the mood for the day for we all knew we stood a good chance of sharing the same fate and the rain only added to our misery and discomfort. I thought we might have walked far enough that day to be close to Halfway Hill, but I could see now sign of it as yet. Nonetheless I decided that we should hazard an approach to the road, for the country we were now travelling was becoming increasingly difficult and I was conscious that our progress had slowed to a crawl. We reached the it late on in the afternoon, much later than I had hoped or expected, and it was empty. There was no sign of Halfway Hill either, and though there was no reason to think we would gain anything from reaching the place it had still gained significance in my mind as somewhere men had once lived in this trackless wilderness and where there was the possibility we might find others. We were however a little heartened by the easier progress the road afforded, but nightfall saw us still short of our destination and the rain continued to fall steadily, once again frustrating any hope of building a decent fire.

We had still not reached Halfway Hill by the afternoon of the fourth day, and the realisation of how little ground we had covered filled me with dismay and a growing icy fear in the pit of my stomach, for as the name suggested there had once been a way station there to serve those travelling between Lastbridge and Amon Sul. Lastbridge was still at least seventeen or more leagues distant, and I was gripped by a growing realisation that we might not last the journey unless we could find some supplies. About an hour later we spied something on the road ahead, and as we approached we saw it was one of the wains that had brought our supplies westward, abandoned in the road. Any hopes that it still carried anything of use to us were soon dashed, as it proved to be completely empty, but the horses that had drawn it were still in the traces, and made a heartbreaking sight. One was clearly dead, but its partner, dragged down and trapped still lived, its coat matted and its flank heaving with every breath. It nickered weakly as I approached and seemed to regard me with large pleading eyes, and at first my thoughts were of freeing the poor thing. But then I realised that these poor, ill used creatures meant that we would see Lastbridge again, and I reluctantly drew my dirk from its sheath at my waist.

I ordered men into the trees to collect firewood, and along with others who knew how to dress game we set about butchering the horses. It had stopped raining, and before long we had enough wood gathered to build a goodly fire, which after some effort had been expended eventually burned well in a clearing near the road. We could only hope that the enemy had chosen not to pursue the main body of our host this far east and that it would not attract unwelcome attention, but there was nothing to be done about it. The haunches of meat we had cut were put on rough spits, and soon the air was filled with the delicious scent of roasting meat. Everyone got their share eventually, and after all the meat had been cooked and though there was only enough for each man to receive a small portion it was enough to warm us and raise our spirits.

We had not kept a watch, but suddenly there were more men on the road on the edge of the firelight. There were shouts of alarm, and swords were drawn, but it soon became evident that these were more stragglers from our own side. There were Bearcliffe men and some from Greenwood, about a dozen all told and some of them were in a bad way. They had seen our fire and hoped that it had been lit by men from Rhudaur, and so it had proved. We shared what little remained with them, but even the worst offcuts were gratefully received and devoured.

We moved off again at first light, and made comparatively good time now we were on the road, reaching the ruins at Halfway Hill by mid morning. They were deserted, but there were signs that a large number of men had passed that way a day or two earlier. We did not linger, for the weather was turning again, and though it seemed unlikely that the enemy were abroad we could not count on it, and we were still a long way out in the wild lands. If the old tales were true there would be no hiding from the seeing stone in the tower either, and perhaps we were watched from afar, just as it seemed our march westward had been considering the welcome that had awaited us.

We were hungry and close to exhaustion again two days later when we were accosted on the road, but fortunately it was our own men who challenged us, men sent out from Lastbridge to watch the road for any stragglers. Our arrival there was welcomed joyfully, but it was a joy tempered with great sadness. The sergeant told us that they had all but given up hope of seeing any more men return from the battle after Lord Berthedir had passed through with what remained of the army four days previously. He had barely two thousand men with him, which meant that upward of three thousand of our best were dead, made prisoners or lost in the wild, and worse still Prince Eldir was numbered amongst them. We were all filled with dismay at this news and once again I cursed the pride and folly that had led us to embark upon this reckless adventure. I feared for what it might now mean for the Kingdom, shorn of an heir and with the army greatly weakened but for now we were safe and there were more pressing matters to attend to first.


	75. Chapter 75

I marched back into Lastbridge at the head of the men that I had led back from the battle and was proud that I had been able to bring them safely home. The guards at the West Gate looked on us with sympathy and respect and saluted as we passed, and after we had passed over the bridge the crowds in the streets beyond parted and fell silent. We made our way wearily up the steep road to the Fortress, and when I announced myself at the gatehouse I was ordered to report to the citadel without delay. I parted with my men, and told them to prepare a space for me at table, for I did not mean to tarry long.

I made my way over to the Citadel, and once I had reported to the gatehouse a servant came to collect me. I was taken to somewhere near the Great Hall where the feast had been held little more than two weeks previously, but this time I was left waiting in an antechamber and was offered something to eat, which I accepted with grateful enthusiasm. I had barely finished the small but delicious meal of bread and meat when another servant, dressed in finer livery this time, opened the other doors and asked me to enter the chamber beyond. I guessed I must be somewhere in the royal apartments, for although the room was not especially large it was very comfortably furnished and well lit by ornate glazed windows. At the far end another set of doors flanked by guards stood open, and I passed through and found myself in the throne room.

It was a smaller version of the Great Hall, and on the dais at the far end sat King Elion of Rhudaur, slumped uncomfortably on his throne and flanked by his advisors, chief amongst them Lord Barachon. Lord Berthedir stood below them, a white bandage wound about his brow and his face a mask of pain and sadness, and the remainder of the room was filled with many well dressed men and women of sombre countenance, who I assumed must be courtiers. There was a murmur of dismay when I appeared in the doorway and all fell silent, and suddenly I realised I how dreadful I must look, for I had been given no opportunity to make myself presentable.  
The servant asked me my name in hushed tones, and then announced me to those within. “Esteldir Of Northford, Captain of the Northford Company”. Berthedir looked surprised, and after a moment the King gestured for me to come forward with a weak wave of the hand. I marched up the aisle to the space in front of his throne, saluted and went down on my knees as practice demanded. I looked upon the King close to for the first time and was shocked at how ill he looked, his hands trembled and his eyes were filled with pain and sadness. He did not move or speak but gestured for me to rise and then gave another wave of the hand as if to command me. Barachon spoke up on his behalf. “Hail, Captain of Northford. His Highness Elion wishes to hear your tale, late come as you are from the battle of Amon Sul, especially if you have any news of the fate of Prince Eldir?”

“My Leige” I began. “My Company was in the van as we marched onto the battlefield, behind the Prince and his Lords, and we were in the centre when we formed up. He was in front of us with the rest of the horse when the mounted knights of the enemy charged down on us and we were hard beset. I did not see what happened to him after that but I have to admit that I do fear the worst. After that we were engaged by their foot soldiers and archers, but I am proud to say that the Northford and Watersmeet companies at least held their ground until it was clear the day was lost and the rest of the host was fleeing the field. I feared we would be cut off and taken, as I guess much of our left flank was, so I ordered a retreat and tried to lead my men northward up the vale rather than back along the road. I fear my men paid dearly for their valour, for out of the best part of two hundred who marched westward only fifty have returned with me. The others who came back with us were from other companies. I led them through the wild for three days before we returned to the road and found dead horses there, and they provided us with the meal we were desperately in need of.” There was a gasp of dismay and a sudden gale of outraged chatter from the courtiers which was silenced by another gesture from the King. He looked on me with sympathy in his expression and I resumed. “After that there is little more to tell, we continued on our journey until we were met by our own men guarding the East Road yesterday, and knew we were saved. I am sorry I cannot bring you better tidings”.

The King stirred himself in his seat with some effort, and spoke directly to me at last in slowly and deliberately. “I thank you and your men for your brave and loyal service”. He stopped for a moment, for the effort seemed to cost him greatly. “Your courage and devotion to your duty are an example to us all. I recall your father was a fine soldier too and you do his memory much credit”. I was greatly surprised and touched by this last statement. He turned to those who stood by his side. “See that this man has his needs attended to.” Then he slumped back on his throne, seemingly spent, and dismissed me with a nod. 

I noticed as I was escorted back the way I had come that Berthedir looked furious but I could not at that moment divine why that should be the case. I was taken along several corridors and up a flight of steps to a small chamber with a table set in the middle of it. Presently a large bucket of warm water was brought in along with some cloths and fresh garments and I to my delight and great relief I was left to wash and dress in clean gear. Afterwards the servants brought me what can only be described as a feast, for I have rarely eaten such fine food or been so hungry for it, and I fell on it with a vengeance, eating till I could no longer face another mouthful. I hoped that my men had eaten half as well, and thinking of them began to fill one of the washing cloths with the remainder of the banquet. I was interrupted by a knock at the door, and after a moment’s hesitation decided to brazen it out with my food filled bundle. I asked whoever had knocked to enter.

A woman, a little older perhaps than I, beautifully dressed and very comely with fair hair entered the room, but she was not alone, and the person who I longed to see more than any other in the world came in behind her. I leapt to my feet in joyful surprise and my bundle fell open on the table, but I knew I could not say the words I wanted to utter at that moment and instead I kept my counsel and bowed low, guessing the fair haired woman to be Princess Elien. “Your Highness, my lady” I said, feeling awkward and confused, but she smiled kindly. “Be at ease Captain, and continue with whatever you were doing”. She looked quizzically at the pile of food in the cloth on the table. “As you see I have brought Idhrethil with me, who you already know, for if it please you we would hear more of the battle and what transpired afterwards if you are not too weary?” Our eyes met, and I looked once again into that face, grave and beautiful, the one I had longed so much to see again during our flight eastward. She looked a little tired and careworn, and her dark eyes suddenly brimmed with tears. I could not help myself, but went to her, took her in my arms and held her tight to me. She sobbed a little as she lay in my arms, her heart thumping against me through her gown, and when I finally remembered we were in company we parted a little awkwardly there were tears running down my cheeks too. “I thought I would never see you again” she said softly. “I promised I would come back” I replied, smiling kindly. 

The Princess however seemed completely unperturbed by this exchange, and gestured for us all to be seated at the table. I began my tale again, and the two women listened to me with grave expressions on their faces, especially when it came to my account of the battle. I did not stint on the detail, and when the Princess asked me about Eldir and what might have befallen him I told her that I feared our horsemen had been overwhelmed in the first charge of the enemy and that it had shown true courage for him to lead his men from the front in battle. “Unlike my husband then” she said tartly. “He should have been at my brother’s side, but somehow his business took him to the rear and he was forced to flee for his life”. I suddenly understood the import of the words I had spoken and the replies I had received in the throne room and thought that if Berthedir had not been my enemy before, then he most certainly would be now. I continued with my tale, speaking of the valour of my men, of the full horror of the battle, and of the hardships of the long retreat home that had followed it and as she had done once before Idhrethil took hold of my hand, but this time did not let go. 

“My husband did not return from the battle” she said quietly, but she did not look at me as she spoke. “Have you any news of him?” I pondered for a moment before replying, for I had not known this to be the case. “There were some Lastbridge companies alongside us on our left hand at the start of the battle, and one of them could well have been Belegon’s, but they were overwhelmed by the men of Cardolan and I fear a good number were encircled and captured. What their fate was I do not know, but it could be that he still lives, and I pray that he will be returned safe to you.” The last part was not spoken sincerely, but I felt it was good manners to say it given who was present. Elien however surprised me with her reply. “For myself, and the love I bear my friend Idhrethil I pray that he will not, for he is an unworthy brute”. I felt Idhrethil’s hand tighten on mine as the Princess continued. “I deem that she has spoken truly of you, that you are a faithful and honourable man, so I will speak freely. We have both been cursed by misfortune in the choice of husband that was made for us, and I am doubly cursed because mine was returned to me when he should instead have died bravely on the battlefield at my beloved brother‘s side. But if my dearest friend has a chance to follow her heart, even if it is just for a short while, then I will do all in my power to see that she may. But now I fear we must both depart ere we are missed”. With that they both rose, and once again I held my beloved in my arms for a few moments, and they were happier ones this time. Then I turned to the Princess, knelt and kissed her hand and thanked her sincerely and she smiled radiantly at me, gesturing for me to rise at once, before her expression suddenly changed and she asked me “just what are you doing with that food?” I admitted that I was pilfering the remains of the meal to take back to my men and she laughed and said I was a kind captain indeed. With that they left the chamber and I was alone again.


	76. Chapter 76

I returned to the dormitory hall that had housed my company, and found the remnants of my men there, and they seemed so pitifully few in that previously crowded space. The bundle of food was received with gratitude, and they listened with great interest to my account of being brought before the King. I did not however speak of the Princess, but lay afterwards quietly on my pallet full of gratitude and happiness, for what I had desired so much for so long and had almost lost was suddenly and unexpectedly within my reach again. I also pondered on my meeting with the King, and was deeply touched that he had remembered my father, and felt pity for his suffering for he did seem to be a good man even if terrible deeds had been done in his name. My thoughts soon trailed off however and I had the best night’s sleep that I had experienced for a very long time.

I remained in the dormitory chamber resting with my men the following day, longing for a pretext to return to the Citadel, but unable to think of one. Idhrethil was a wife in mourning, so it would have been inappropriate for her to receive me as a visitor, and certainly not a lone one. On the other hand I began to fear that inaction on my part might be seen as a sign of disinterest, and I wondered whether I ought to try and seek her out regardless, even if it resulted in a polite rebuff for the sake of good form. My agony of indecision continued until a messenger arrived in the hall, asking for me by name, and my heart leapt with joy. However it was shortlived, for I discovered that I was summoned once again to see the King and his counsellors, but notwithstanding that the possibility of seeing Idhrethil again afterwards remained. I made myself as presentable as I could and followed the messenger back to the Citadel.

This time I was taken to a chamber near the throne room, and when I entered the room the King was sat at the head of a table with others seated by him, including Barachon and Berthedir. There were the remains of a meal on it, and piles of documents. I bowed and stood at the foot of the table, but it was Barachon the old spider who spoke to me this time, rather than the King himself, who remained slumped in his chair, although I thought I caught a look of kindness in his sad eyes when he beheld me. “Esteldir son of Galdirion, Captain of Northford, I hope that we now find you refreshed and rested. However I regret that a task of the utmost importance and urgency has arisen which means we must demand that you once again ready yourself for duty. We need to send an embassy to Amon Sul to discover the fate of the Prince and plead to have his mortal remains returned to us for honourable burial. We also wish to discover who our foes hold as prisoner and on what terms they would be prepared to ransom them. You will lead this embassy and will hand pick half a dozen of your best men to accompany you, and you will be given horses and equipped accordingly. If you succeed in this task, great honour will be yours, so be sure you do not fail us. Time is of the essence, so I have already set the preparations in motion. You will leave at dawn tomorrow. What say you?”

What could I say but that I was honoured to be chosen? But I knew already that they held little hope of my succeeding or they would have chosen someone of higher rank and status for the task, and that if I were cut down somewhere in the wild by a patrol or taken prisoner when I arrived at the tower then it would be of little consequence, for this was a desperate throw of the dice on their part. I felt a little angry that I had not been allowed to rest and recover properly from my ordeal, and wondered how much of a hand Berthedir had played in my selection. I suspect that I did not hide my true feelings very well and Barachon quickly dismissed me. “Now you must go and select your companions and report to the armoury and quartermasters. May the Valar watch over you and protect you”. I did as I was bid, full of anger and bitterness at this entirely unexpected twist of fate, for once again I was being torn away from Idhrethil and sent into great peril, just when I could have hoped to spend some time with her and it seemed there were no more obstacles in our path. 

I returned to our dormitory and told my men what was happening. I had thought that they would have scorned the chance to accompany me on this latest quest with derision, but to my dismay and immense gratitude I found I had more names offered me than I actually needed. They told me in their plain manner that I had been true to my word and guided them to safety, and that they owed as a result, and I laughed with them and called them damnable fools. I selected half a dozen of those I could most rely on andWe went along to the armoury and stores where we were expected. We were equipped with new gear and weapons of the finest quality, and I was given a gilded steel breastplate like those that some of the lords and senior captains wore. It felt stiff and surprisingly heavy on me and I did not know if I would like to wear it in battle, but we looked quite the part when we were all done, and the levity of my companions at our apparent elevation in the world made up a little for the seriousness of what lay ahead for us all.

I ate the evening meal with them, and noted with satisfaction that the servings were more generous and of better quality than normal, for it was the least they were due. Afterwards I had orders to return to the Citadel and report to Barachon, but my thoughts were only of how I might contrive to see Idhrethil afterwards. I did not know how I would achieve this, but hoped that the Princess, who must by now have learned of my fate, might come to our aid. I was shown to Barachon’s private apartments, and found him sat by the fire, looking distinctly cadaverous in a black fur lined robe. He instructed me to be seated and asked his manservant to bring me a jug of ale, and then sat quietly staring at me over steepled fingers.

“You realise of course why you have been chosen for this task?” He began. “I would not wish you to have any illusions as to your true status and importance in this matter. We do not even know if an embassy will be acknowledged, though it might have been once in better days, so you go forth into grave peril. We are shorn of many good men of standing as a result of this adventure, and I will not hazard those we have left. However you are fair of speech, and cultured, and do not lack for courage, so we have chosen you for this task. If you are not slain or taken prisoner, then you must demand to speak to the Lord of Amon Sul, or whoever commands there. Your first task as you know is to determine the fate of Prince Eldir and bring his body home if you can. Secondly, if indeed took prisoners then you must find out what fate befell them and return with a list of any of name or rank and the sums they will consider for ransom, should they be so minded. Lastly learn all you can of what passes in the other Kingdoms, how they are disposed and what they tell of the machinations of Angmar. As you well know our foe in the north has been uncommonly quiet since we defeated him after the siege of Northford, but I do not believe he can possibly be done with us yet. However old age wearies us all, and he was already a man of mature years when we beheld him at the Battle of the Northern Plain where the King received the wounds that have agued him so much since. Even one of pure Numenorean race, which he undoubtedly is, would be growing old now, but we still know almost nothing of him, or even if he has a son waiting to succeed him. Indeed it has always been a mystery to us why such as he would choose to install himself in such a bleak and inhospitable place, far from the lands of civilised men”. 

I sipped my ale, surprised by his frankness but nonetheless flattered that he had chosen to speak so freely to me and though he was a cruel and merciless man who might well be sending me to my death I could not but help be impressed by his evident intellect. A little emboldened, and by his own admission with little to lose, I decided to ask a question of him and rather blurted out “why did we march on Amon Sul?” He did not betray any surprise at my impertinence, but rather considered that it had a bearing on the task I was to undertake. “Amon Sul is ours as of right, for it lies within the ancient borders of our land, but we have long disputed it with Cardolan, and occasionally Arthedain too throughout our history, though they more often than not have been in league. The seeing stone that is held in that tower would be a great aid in the defence of our Kingdom. Lately our reports have been that the Kingdom of Cardolan had been greatly weakened by incursions by the forces of Angmar, and the secession of Tharbad. The King has long desired to right these ancient wrongs so we sent scouts along the East Road to spy out their defences and found them apparently weak and undermanned. And yet, when we were ready to strike we met their full might, and I fear we were given another lesson as to why the seeing stone would be of so much value to us, for there is too little commerce between our realms for us to suspect treachery, and it was not made generally known exactly what we purposed until the very last moment”. I remembered the words of the soldier the night before we had marched when I had broken the news of where we were to go, and thought to myself that the humble can often see things more clearly than the great and the wise.

With that I found that the interview was concluded and he rose and signalled for the servant to enter. I was disappointed as I had half hoped to ask him about Northford and the Hillmen too, but I had clearly already said enough. He received a sealed scroll from his servant and handed it to me. “This letter carries the seal of the King Of Rhudaur, and it states that you, the bearer are authorised to speak in his name. These are your credentials should you succeed in reaching the tower and making your plaint to whoever commands there. He then politely wished me good fortune with my task and reminded me of the importance of doing my duty even when the odds were against me. I bit my tongue at this, and thought sourly that I had been doing little else for the previous nine years. I knew very well however that he was not a man to be crossed, and if by some chance I did actually manage to return from Amon Sul whole and hale then saying so would have been most unwise.


	77. Chapter 77

I found myself outside in the corridor with the servant, who was tasked with escorting me back to the gate, but I had only one thought, and that was how I could possibly contrive to see Idhrethil one last time before I departed, for it was clear to me that it was quite possible we would never see each other again in this world. I frantically rehearsed various scenarios in my mind, but the problem was that I did not know where she could be found, and would soon become hopelessly lost if I dispensed with my escort. However we had not gone far when we met a woman, cloaked and hooded against the chill night air, and the servant stopped and bowed low, and I followed suit. It was none other than the Princess Elien, and she smiled warmly when she saw me. “Esteldir, well met, I was hoping beyond hope that I would find you before you depart, for I have a matter of great import to discuss with you. Arthon, you may return to his Lordship, I will see the Captain on his way”. The servant bowed and turned away, walking briskly back the way he had come.

When he was out of earshot she spoke to me in a low voice “I am so glad I found you. I heard what they purpose for you to do, and knew that Barachon wished to speak to you ere you departed but knew not the hour of your meeting. By good fortune I have found you in the nick of time!” I wondered momentarily at the curious twist of fate that had led to a princess of the realm wandering the passages of a dark citadel looking for me but said nothing. “Idhrethil was heartbroken when she heard you had been ordered to go west again, and I promised you both that I would do what I could for you so you shall see each other one last time. Please come back, it is long since I saw her so happy”. Her fair face crumpled a little and her eyes filled with tears, and though she did not say so I knew she was not expecting me to return. “I heard them talking about it, the King insisted that an embassy be sent to plead for my brother to be brought home, but both Lord Barachon and my husband thought that it was a fool’s errand. I am so sorry that they chose you to carry it out”. Her voice trailed off, but I had no opportunity to reply, for we had arrived at our destination, a door leading to rooms close by those that Angon had dwelt in before his death. Elien rapped softly on the door, and after a short pause it was opened by Idhrethil, and her face lit up when she saw us there. “I found him” said the Princess smiling and the two friends embraced. “I thank you from the bottom of my heart” replied Idhrethil, kissing her on the cheek as they parted and smiling radiantly at me. The Princess bid me farewell, and then much to my surprise embraced me too, with tears running down her cheeks. And then at last I was alone again with the woman I loved more than anything in the world.

I followed her into the room and she closed the door behind us, and she turned to me with tears in her eyes as well and we came together and held each other tight for a very long time. “Oh my love” she said, and my heart sang to hear her speak so. “What cruel twist of fate means that I must have what I desire torn away from me the very moment I have it within my grasp. For I have loved you from the very first moment we met that blessed day in the Library, and there has not been a day since that I did not think of you with longing and regret.” At this I could not help but laugh, and through my own tears declare that I had been exactly of the same mind, and had forever regretted not taking her in my arms when I had the chance. “Oh, I wish you had” she replied, for I too dared not do so for fear of making you think I was some desperate widow with no manners. Much ill could have been averted if we had both been a little braver. But now nothing stands between us any more, not for a few hours at least”. And with that she held me close and we kissed passionately for the first time.

And then without shame or the slightest feeling of awkwardness between us we went to her bedchamber and lay together and knew true happiness. Beforehand I had expressed concern about her reputation and honour, and she had laughed and playfully scolded me, telling me that a woman twice widowed and past the first flush of youth had no such concerns, and that it was my own honour that was in peril. Oh Idhrethil, though half a lifetime has passed since last I saw you, the memory of our brief happiness and the pain of loss is as sharp and fresh as ever.

After the first throes of passion were spent we lay long together talking of our lives, and even imagining what a future together might be like if we ever had the chance of it. I told her I would come back for her and we would run away to Arthedain and start a new life far from the perils and misery of Lastbridge and Rhudaur. We would live simply, in a vale ideally, and farm sheep and grow old together far from lords and kings and wars. She also spoke quietly of her anguish on learning that Angon was dying and that I was at his side so close by, but she had been forbidden to have any further association with him by her new husband. He had also forbidden her to attend his funeral, and she had tried to slip out unnoticed early on that morning but been apprehended and punished for it. I regretted bitterly that I had doubted her in that matter and begged her for forgiveness. She told me to hush, and thanked me for the service I had performed for our dearest friend, and said that if he could see us now he would be very happy for us. We both giggled at the idea, naked and immodest as we were at that moment, and then fell together once again.

I woke, and lying in the dark entwined with the warmth and softness of my love against me did not know for a while if I still dreamt or not, but recollection returned, and my blissful happiness was quickly marred with the knowledge that we must soon part, perhaps forever. I lay there for as long as I dared, savouring every moment and drinking in every detail until the morning bell sounded in the distance and I knew I could not tarry any longer. I woke her gently and she smiled wistfully, kissed me and rose. We dressed in silence, and she helped me put on my gear and then we ate a small breakfast together in the gloom. It was strange to be in what was clearly still another man’s home, for signs of Belegon’s former presence were everywhere. And then, when I could delay no further we embraced dry eyed and she said “come back to me my love” and taking the dagger from my belt cut a lock of her hair, rolled it up around her finger and put it in my scrip. We shared one last modest kiss, I stroked her cheek and then I turned away, opened the door and left, looking back as I did so. She smiled her wonderful smile, and raised her hand to her heart and then she was gone.

The men were already gathered in the vast courtyard, and made a few ribald comments when they saw me, and I cursed them back, but it was all rather for show and I knew we were all doubtful about what awaited us. To my surprise horses had been brought up, one for each man and two carrying our supplies. They were all stocky Rhudaur horses with shaggy black coats bar one, which was larger and more elegant, and to my dismay much taller too. It was clear I was going to be expected to ride this one, which had a coat the colour of ochre, as befitted my status as an ambassador. The ostler assured me that she was a gentle old girl who would look after me, and that we would all have plenty of time to get used to riding them on the journey. He also gave us lengthy instructions as to their care and warned us that we should bring them all back sound and hale, for he at least did not seem consider us doomed. We were also given two standards, the banner of Rhudaur and a white flag of parley, which I assigned to the care of two of my companions. For myself I double checked that I still carried my letter of authority and stowed it carefully, wondering whether I would ever have need of it. Then, when all was ready we set off, leading our horses on foot. We fell silent as we crossed the cobbles to the gatehouse and left the fortress, and as we passed under its arch I glanced towards the citadel and felt a bitter mix of elation and terrible loss rise in my breast.


	78. Chapter 78

Once out on the East Road and clear of the gates we mounted and attempted to ride the horses, and I found that the Ostler had been as good as his word and mine was calm and docile despite her size. She was also apparently disinclined to move at anything more than a steady walk, which I rather approved of. I felt very far above the ground, and soon found new muscles beginning to ache, but I had still not fully recovered and it was still easier than marching on foot. My companions also fared reasonably well on their smaller horses and we made good time that day, halting for the night while it was still relatively early and pitching camp well away from the road. Somewhat sore and stiff, we did not light a fire but had the novelty of a tent and good rations and it would have been almost agreeable in other circumstances. The horses were hobbled and tethered as we had been instructed and left to graze and we drew lots for the watches. I was fortunate and got the first, so slept on afterwards without interruption, but all my thoughts and dreams were of one thing only.

We struck camp the following morning having gathered and tacked up the horses with some difficulty, but fortunately one of our number had grown up on a farm that used oxen as draught animals and was a little more adept with the harness than the rest of us, but even so it was already much later than I would have liked when we resumed our journey on the road. The weather was kind, and there was already a hint of spring in the air. I was growing more used to being up on a horse, and though it was necessary to keep a watch we were still far from any known enemy and I allowed my thoughts to wander back to the events of two nights before. Never has a man been so blessed and cursed! I thought to myself, but at least I could face my fate having known true happiness with the woman I loved, and that was still worth a great deal. My reverie was interrupted by the gradual realisation that I could hear a song on the breeze, so quiet I wondered if it was imagined at first, but no imagination of ordinary men could have rendered such music. It grew louder, until all my companions fell silent, spellbound by the beauty and sadness in the voices that sang it. Then it stopped suddenly and we saw at last whence it had come. Behind us on the road, and gaining rapidly on us, a company of folk on foot came into view, clad in grey, and I knew at once what they must be. There was no doubt they had already seen us, but they must have decided we posed no threat to them. I ordered my companions to steer their mounts off the road to let these travellers pass, and they did so with a little effort and one or two curses.

The company numbered about twenty, and as they came up the road I saw that they wore the same garb and had the same look about them as the Elder Folk we had met at the Inn of the Black Bear all those years before. Just like those that we had seen then they appeared to take little interest in us as they approached, but moved by the beauty of their song I stood up in my stirrups and greeted them in Sindarin in the same form of words that I had heard Daeron use. They halted and their leader turned to me and bowed, and once again I marvelled at their eyes, so deep and full of wisdom. “Rarely do we meet other travellers in these lands, and even rarer are those who remember the old customs and the tongue you speak. We thank you for your courtesy”. He bowed again and then they resumed their march and were soon gone. I think we all hoped that they would resume their singing, but if they did it must have been when we were no longer in earshot, and I can only think that it had not been intended for our ears. My companions regarded me with new found wonder, impressed that I could speak ‘elf’ but when they asked me about it I assured them that most of the high and mighty in Lastbridge would have been able to do the same, and that drew some further ribald comment about my true status and qualities.

Once again we made good time but when we reached Halfway Hill I decided to continue for another hour before we made camp, and again we spent the night well away from the road and lit no fire. The weather continued to be clement, but our impending approach to Amon Sul and the raw memory of the battle and the suffering that had followed meant our mood became increasingly sombre, and we spoke little. The following day was also uneventful, though we were now well within range of any patrols, and I ordered the banners unfurled and carried for any such eventuality. That night we camped by the road and lit a fire, and left the banners planted in full view. We ate well and I permitted the men to drink the small amount of ale that we had found in our packs, for it might well be our last evening, and sometime tomorrow we knew we would meet the forces of Cardolan and Ardethain and that our fate would be decided.

That morning dawned bright and clear, and as I had drawn the straw for the final watch this time I saw the sky gradually lighten and saw the sun creep above the horizon. I savoured every moment, convinced that this might well be the last dawn I would ever see, and that we would be slain or captured and executed. But now the day we had dreaded was upon us I found a reserve of inner calm I could draw on, just as I had often been able to before a battle. I roused the men, and we went through the routine of breaking our fast, preparing the horses and striking camp as we had done during the preceding two days. Before we set off I spoke to my companions thanking them most sincerely once again for their courage in choosing to accompany me, asking them for one last effort and promising them that I would bring them home safely again if it were in my power. Then we mounted, with varying degrees of grace and proficiency, and were on our way. The banner bearers rode with me on either hand, and we had all made an effort to look the part, for I knew appearances were everything when carrying out the sort of task we had been charged with.

We reached the site of the final camp not long after noon, and by mid afternoon crested the rise that brought the tower into view in the distance. None of us spoke, and the tension in the faces of my companions was unmistakeable, but we continued unchallenged along the road, banners aloft. Despite all my efforts to remain calm my stomach was in knots as we descended into the vale towards the battlefield and approached the bridge over the stream. The ground had been churned over large areas to either side of the road, and here and there the debris of battle, helms, shields and belts, or the odd pack or cloak lay strewn here and there where they had been dropped in the heat of battle. But of the fallen there was no sign, save a number of long mounds standing either side of the road covered in freshly disturbed earth. On the summit of each stood a stone, on which runes had been cut, and when we halted at the first I saw from the inscription that our own dead lay beneath. I felt a little surprised and grateful that our fallen had been dealt with with so much respect, and their final resting place duly marked. The other mounds we passed covered more of our men, and finally, where the ground began to rise a single mound set apart held the dead of our enemy. The disparity in numbers made it clear what a terrible defeat had been inflicted on us there.

As we crested the rise on the far side of the vale and the tower came into view again, we saw that the road now ran straight and true towards the base of the hill on which it stood. A small town lay at its foot, and the tower itself was surrounded by battlements and fortifications, just as had been described to us during the preparation for the assault. We had not gone far when we spied horsemen coming down the road toward us at speed, and I called my own men to a halt and waited for them to reach us, my heart pounding in my chest. There were about thirty of them, the same type that had wreaked havoc in our ranks on the battlefield, and they dropped back to a trot as they closed in on us, levelling their lances and fanning out into a half circle around us before halting. My horse became restless and shied as they did so, and for one terrible moment I almost lost my balance and fell to the ground, but fortunately I recovered and my dignity was preserved. We had not immediately been cut down, and that was as good a start as we could possibly have hoped for. Now it fell to me to attempt to carry out my duty, and I signalled to my companion to pass me the white flag. I took it from him and rode forward a few steps towards the waiting lance tips. “I, Esteldir Of Northford, come under a flag of parley to speak for Elion son of Eldaer, King of Rhudaur. I therefore request safe passage for myself and my men”. 

The lead rider gave a signal and in a moment their lances were raised, and then he removed his helm. He was a handsome man, his close cropped hair and beard beginning to turn grey, and his eyes betrayed bemusement as he spoke. “So be it, we shall honour your flag of parley as custom demands, and we will take you to speak to the Prince at the tower. But you must forgive my impertinence, for your kingdom must have fallen lower than any could have imagined if all they are able to muster for such a task is a boy on an old nag and a handful of men on ponies”. A ripple of laughter went round his men at this, but rather than take offence at the slight I smiled and shrugged my shoulders. “Perhaps it has, but I must do as I am bid, and I am given authority to speak for my King”. The knight smiled in turn at this, nodded, then gave another command and his riders wheeled round and formed up into two lines, one to either side of us as an escort. He himself came alongside me and gave a small salute. “Captain Amdir of the Third Horse at your service. You did well to stay on just then, and I will refrain from letting my men trot their horses back along the road as it seems clear enough that it might well cause yours to fall from your mounts”. He laughed again and I gave him a rueful smile. “I pray for your sake that you can speak better than you ride, for Prince Argeleb does not suffer fools, and may refuse to treat with an embassy of such low standing. I do not doubt your sincerity, or that you have the credentials you claim, but I fear that you have been ill used by those who sent you here in such a fashion”. I did not reply to this, but hoped my expression would be enough of an answer.


	79. Chapter 79

The tower of Amon Sul is a marvel, both beautifully wrought and ancient, and as we approached I realised it was further away and taller than I had realised, commanding a tremendous view of all the lands around even without the aid of a seeing stone. The hill on which it stood rose suddenly and steeply from the plain for almost a thousand feet and it was crowned by two sets of ramparts, the original construction and a second more extensive one below it which had been added more recently. At the foot of the hill, where a road branched off and began the steep zig zag climb up its flank stood an inn and several other substantial stone buildings, alongside which a large well ordered encampment with neat rows of tents and pennants flying in the breeze had been erected. Surveying the scene I realised that it would have been laborious and difficult to assail the fortress directly from the road, and I knew that the intention had been to replicate the tactic used by my uncle and the young Lord Angon during the last successful attack and approach instead along the ridge from the north.

It took quite a while longer than I expected for us to reach the foot of the hill, and many soldiers from the camp had gathered there to watch us pass, curious as to what was happening. I recognised their gear from the battle, the black of Arthedain mingled with the deep blue of Cardolan. They watched in silence as we passed and I avoided their gaze, but it struck me that if they had donned red surcoats instead then most of them could easily have passed as men from my own company. My escort, perhaps reading my thoughts, turned to me and asked me if I had been in the battle. “Yes” I replied, “I fought in the centre, and most of the men under my command perished”. He looked a little surprised at this and then seemed to regard me with newfound respect. “You and your men fought well on that day, when many of your host did not, and I honour their memory”. There was a thoughtful silence between us and I replied, though I was acutely aware that I was not in a position to speak freely. “It gave me no joy to find myself fighting Dunedain soldiers. I deeply regret that we came to this pass when I know that we share a common foe to the north. But it is not given to the likes of us to know or understand the minds or deeds of great men and kings”. “Indeed not” he replied, and we fell quiet once again as we left the East Road and took the road up the hill.

The way was steep, and turned upon itself several times as it climbed and it was not long before we found ourselves looking down on the camp below and could see an ever increasing vista of the lands around us. Here and there the paved road was supported by stone revetments and walls of ancient and marvellous workmanship as it climbed that put me in mind of the parapets of the bridge over the Hoarwell. Perhaps they were of a similar age, and had been wrought by the same masons? Who knew. As we rose ever higher, the wind began to whip up, and I realised that the Hills Of The Wind were well named and tugged my cloak a little closer to me. Soon the encampment below looked like no more than an elaborate child’s toy, and the lower ring of battlements began to loom into view above us. Some of my men looked distinctly uncomfortable, for the ground fell away steeply from the road now, but their mounts were sure footed and apparently untroubled. To the south I could now see a long line of wooded hills marching across the horizon perhaps some fifteen leagues distant, but in all other directions the plain seemed to continue more or less uninterrupted, the road snaking away westward towards the horizon.

We reached the lower gate two and a half hours after commencing the climb and passed through into the first circle under the watchful gaze of the guards. A deputation was waiting for us there, and Amdir indicated that we should dismount. We did so, furling our banners, and grooms came forward to take our mounts away and tend to their needs. Between the first and second walls there were well ordered stables, workshops and smithies, and everywhere we looked men were purposefully going about their business. An old man with a white beard, but tall and upright came forward and bowed, and I returned the courtesy. He spoke in Sindarin, as was the habit of the nobility in Arthedain. “We welcome you, men of Rhudaur to the great watchtower of Amon Sul. I am Norgalad, Steward of the Tower and Master of the Stone. The Prince will receive your deputation in due course, but first you must be tired and hungry after your long journey and we have prepared some refreshments for you. If you will accompany me?” I nodded and replied. “Esteldir, son of Galdirion of the House Of Rushwater Vale at your service. We thank you for your hospitality and accept your invitation.” I briefly translated what had been said for the benefit of my men and then we followed Lord Norgalad and his guard up the steep road towards the second circle, conscious of the immense tower rising to a dizzying height overhead.

Inside the second gate there was a small square, mercifully level after all the climbing and sheltered from the wind, and beyond it stood the entrance to the tower itself and a great doorway with many runes carved around the massive stone frame. The tower itself, like the rest of the fortress was built of a lighter honey coloured stone than was found further east, and as a result the general effect was warm rather than grim. All around the small square, and around the inside of the walls were clustered more buildings, but of much greater age than those without, and I guessed that among these were the kitchens, mess rooms and dormitories that serviced the tower.

It was to one of these buildings that we were taken first, rather than the tower itself, and we entered a cosy well furnished hall lined with benches and tables upon which places had been set. The men filed in and took their places, and I was ushered to the top table where I took my seat between Amdir and Norgalad. Servers came forward and brought roasted birds, cheese, sausage and bread along with some truly excellent ale, and we tucked into it with relish, unaccustomed to such good and varied fare. The meal was eaten in a polite silence to begin with, though I exchanged a few pleasantries with my neighbours, remarking on the qualities of the food and drink, and asking some polite questions about the tower and fortress and its history. My men too ate in silence, but soldiers are soldiers the wherever you go, and after a while they struck up conversations with those seated near them, speaking of the things that soldiers always do. For his part Amdir asked me about my family and our lands, and their history, and I decided to be frank with him and told him that I was the last of my line and that our lands had been abandoned in the long fightwith Angmar. I reasoned that they had the seeing stone, and that I did not betray anything they would not have been able to discover for themselves if they had chosen to. Norgalad, who had been listening with interest shook his head and said “we are all threatened by the power that has risen in Carn Dum, but while Rhudaur and Cardolan have suffered greatly, Arthedain as yet stands firm and unyielding in their path, and they have been worsted every time they have tested their strength against us. Your King would have been wiser to send an army here to join their strength with ours, as Cardolan have done, rather than in pride and folly try to take what has never belonged to him. Too many good men now lie under the earth along the Great Road as a result of it, and they died in vain”. I did not reply, but bowed my head respectfully and we fell silent.

After the meal I left the hall with Norgalad and Amdir, though the latter bade me farewell and wished me good fortune, for he and his men were returning to the plain. I returned his good wishes, and told him that I hoped we might meet again one day in better circumstances, and he agreed that it would be a good thing. Then I walked up with the old man and his guard to the doorway of the tower, and we paused there. “I must ask you to surrender your weapons, for it is ordained that none shall bear arms within the tower itself. I noticed that he himself bore no blade, and though it made me feel uneasy I unbuckled my belt and handed it over. I reasoned that I was alone amongst several thousand already, and that if they had wanted to harm us then they would not have waited so long or fed us so well. As I did so my eyes fell upon the runes over the doorway, which were in an ancient script which I was unfamiliar with, though I thought I recognised the first few. Norgalad followed my gaze, and must have read my thoughts. “Here did Elendil witness the coming of Gil-Galad Elven King” he said. “This place is ancient beyond reckoning and it has stood here since the first days of the Kingdom in the north and the last alliance between elves and men. We walk on hallowed ground among these stones”. 

We entered and found ourselves in a hall with a high vaulted roof lit by windows far up the walls. Opposite the entrance, on the far side beyond another doorway a wide staircase, sufficient for two armed men to pass abreast, wound its way upward and out of sight. It was to this stair that we made our way and began to climb, endlessly circling until I felt I must become giddy with it. Every so often we came to a landing with a door that let into the rooms on the next floor, with the way lit by a small window. I caught glimpses of the view as we passed, and knew that we had already reached an impressive height. Finally, when I was beginning to wonder if the climb would ever end we halted on another landing and Lord Norgalad rapped on the carved oak doors and received a word of assent from within. He was obviously well used to the climb as it did not seem to have taxed him unduly, and he opened the door and strode into a spacious chamber lined with countless books and scrolls and lit by four large windows which as far as I could tell faced each point of the compass. In the centre of the room a man stood poring over a large map on a table, looking up as we entered, and when I saw him I knew with certainty that I was in the presence of Argeleb, Crown Prince of Arthedain.


	80. Chapter 80

When I had been told that I was to be presented to the Prince, I had half fancied that he would be another youth, of a similar age to me just as Prince Eldir had been. But Argeleb was a man in his prime, tall and powerfully built, and it was evident that the blood of Numenor ran strong and true in his veins. His eyes were sea grey, set in a face with strong features, and I thought I detected a little of the air of elvish otherness about him too. I knew myself immediately to be in the presence of a great man, and felt at once foolish and unworthy to deal with him on an equal footing. Despite this I was nonetheless determined to try and fulfil the task I had been set with as much dignity as I could muster. I thought how ordinary and unremarkable our own Prince had been in comparison, for the true line of Isildur had died out long ago in Rhudaur and our present royal family were little more than upstart nobles.

He appraised me for a moment and then spoke in a deep rich voice. “Welcome to the watchtower and fortress of Amon Sul. We respect the rights and traditions of the flag of parley you have travelled under and hope that we have received you with all due courtesies. I would know with whom I am expected to treat and with what authority they act, for it was customary in the old days to send men of high rank and standing to carry out the task you undertake, and yet you are of tender years and came here with but half a dozen men”. I handed him the scroll, and he broke the seal and unrolled it. “I am named Esteldir, son of Galdirion of the house of Rushwater Vale, sent here by King Elion of Rhudaur as his vassal and given authority to speak for him. You do not mistake my tender years, or my lack of standing, for I am no more than a Captain of good family. I was sent hither in stead of one more worthy of the office as it was feared that our embassy might be taken prisoner or slain. I apologise for this great discourtesy, and will appraise those who sent me forth on my return that the old traditions of honourable conduct are still valued in Arthedain”.

“Indeed they are” the Prince replied after a pause. “Your credentials confirm that you speak for your King despite your age and lack of rank. It must have taken a deal of courage for you and your men to ride here believing that you might be slain, so I am minded to listen to what you have to say. Let us be seated, but remember that you speak for a defeated foe who attacked us without provocation or warning”. He gestured towards the table, and the three of us sat down on the fine carved chairs that were arranged around it. I was briefly distracted, for my eye was drawn to the map that lay unrolled on it that the Prince had been inspecting when we entered. It was a thing of great beauty, showing the whole of the old North Kingdom and beyond, but then I realised that they were waiting for me to begin and cleared my throat. “I am tasked with two things” I began, a little awkwardly to begin with and then warming to my task “firstly, to learn if I can what befell Prince Eldir of Rhudaur in the battle, and if indeed he was slain as we fear to ask for the mercy of returning his body to his father the King. Secondly, we believe that you may have taken prisoners in the battle and wish to know what became of them. If you still hold any of rank we would know what your terms would be for their ransom?”

The Prince paused again, folded his hands on the table and spoke firmly in reply. “We rode down your few mounted men in the first charge, and he was among them and was slain. We buried him with all due respect and ceremony with his men, and that is where he will remain. Let the dead be at peace, for there is nothing to be gained by disturbing their rest for such an unseemly purpose. As to prisoners, we encircled your right wing and captured five hundred or more men. They were brought to the camp below after the battle and that is where they remain. Your wounded have been tended to just as our own have and they have food and shelter. I believe we hold men of rank both high and low, and if you wish to ransom any then I say you will ransom all or none, and these are our terms. We have no need of your coin, but you will sign a solemn and binding undertaking between our realms to relinquish in perpetuity any sole claim to sovereignty over the Watchtower of Amon Sul. Furthermore you will also undertake never to come again in force of arms into the lands west of the Mitheithel, and to cede all former settlements and holdings along the Great East Road to the Kingdom of Cardolan. What say you? Have you need to return to Iant Methen to allow your King to consider these terms?” I thought for a moment about the gravity of the bargain that had been offered, and I knew at once that I could not possibly give a reply myself. 

But then I thought of those who had sent me there to Amon Sul in full expectation of my being taken prisoner or killed and my heart was filled with anger and resentment towards them and I became a little reckless. I had read my histories and knew how this particular game was generally played. “Nay” I replied “the King sent me here to speak for him, and I shall do as I was bid. We will accept your terms, but we must offer a counter condition of our own. We have long disputed the possession of Amon Sul, because the seeing stone would give us knowledge and insight into the activities of our foes, and more importantly foreknowledge of any attack on us. If you will undertake to maintain a watch on our enemies and send word whenever we are in peril, then you shall have our agreement to your terms”. The merest flicker of a smile crossed the Prince’s face. “So Rhudaur attacks us without warning, finds herself soundly beaten and then demands not only the return of her prisoners but requests that those who defeated her should mount a watch on her behalf. This seems a steep bargain to me. Why should I accept it?” I was aware that both of them were watching me closely, but I managed to maintain my composure and replied . “Though estranged we are of one kin, with ties of blood and shared heritage, and it grieved me to see Dunedain fighting Dunedain in the battle when the same foe threatens us both. Though it may not be meet to do so I will now speak freely. Our land is in great peril, for the king is dying and his heir lies dead below these walls. We have been driven out the north of our land by long years of fighting, and the crossings of the Mitheithel are now held by Hillmen whose loyalty is at best questionable. Many fear that they are secretly in league with Angmar, and if that is indeed the case then our fate is already sealed. Our only hope lies with those who we have wronged and called our foes, so my Lord, I ask you to look upon our cause with mercy and lend us what aid you may before it is too late”.

The Prince smiled and looked thoughtful. “If I were King of Rhudaur and you were speaking for me I would part your head from your neck for what you have just said, but it was done with honesty and with a lack of false pride. I will accept your bargain and do what I can to aid the Dunedain of Rhudaur, though it be little at present. My father, Malevegil will most likely take a dim view of the bargain we have struck here today, but so be it. I will speak to him on this matter when I return to Fornost, for as you do I believe that the time is now ripe for all the Kingdoms of Arnor to set aside their differences and make common cause. We stand together once again with the Cardolan, but I fear that the ancient enmity between Arthedain and Rhudaur will be too much for my father to bear, for he is now of great age even by our reckoning, and the old do not bend or amend their opinions so easily as the young. However for now we must set matters in motion for the signing of an agreement and the return of your prisoners. Please have something drawn up Norgalad, and I will send word down to the camp to prepare for the departure of the prisoners, perhaps dawn of the day after tomorrow will be soon enough? Tomorrow we will descend to the plain and you will be able to speak to your men and satisfy yourself as to their number and condition, and confirm that they have been well treated”.

Norgalad rose from the table, bowed and left the room to attend to the Prince’s wishes. After he had left, the Prince turned to me, his demeanor noticeably more friendly. “You wish to see the Kingdoms of Arnor set aside their differences, and that is something that I too have long desired and hoped for. One day soon I will be king, and if there are others of like mind to you in Rhudaur perhaps there is some hope that what was sundered so long ago might still be mended”. I nodded, encouraged by his sudden candour, and replied. “There are some I think, but not many among those who wield power, and we have lost many of the old traditions. I have to admit to you that was purely a stroke of good fortune that I learnt Sindarin as a child and am able to speak to you in that tongue as custom and good manners dictate, for it is little used any more even amongst those of high birth in Lastbridge. The Dunedain of Rhudaur are few and our blood is dilute. I myself come from a line that can be traced back to one of the faithful who came from Numenor on my father’s side, but my mother was of the Hill Folk”. Argeleb looked surprised at this. “You take after your father’s kin in appearance and manner nonetheless” he said, “and you would not be out of place amongst my own men”. I took this as a compliment indeed, and thought to myself that this was a Lord worthy of admiration that I could gladly follow and fight for. Those that I had left behind in Lastbridge were base and petty in comparison, and I began to realise just how deep our decline had truly become. In that moment the first seeds of my future treachery were sown.


	81. Chapter 81

We sat at the table in thoughtful silence for a moment, listening to the wind sighing around the walls outside, and then my attention wandered back to the map. Argeleb followed my gaze, got to his feet and unrolled it fully across the table. “Do you wish to look upon it? It is a marvel, a copy of an ancient original kept in the library at Fornost. It shows all of the north from the mountains in the east to the furthest western shore, and it is beautifully detailed”. I sensed that this was subject of interest to him. “There was a fragment of such a map in the library at Lastbridge, but to see the greater whole would be a privilege” I replied, and this further piqued his interest. “So you are familiar with the Library there? It is said to contain many ancient volumes and manuscripts, and I hope perhaps to have the pleasure of visiting it one day”. I confirmed that I had been fortunate enough to spend some time there, and become acquainted with the contents, but that it was now sadly neglected and little visited. I described some of the books it held, including those I was unable to read due to the strange script they were written in, and others so ancient that I had feared to handle them for fear of damaging them. Argeleb looked thoughtful. “There are treasures there indeed, beyond price, for the scripts you describe may well be elvish and it is an ill thing when articles of such value and the knowledge and lore they contain are neglected and forgotten. Your Kingdom has fallen far indeed”.

I had no wish to gainsay him and with that our attention returned to the map. I found Rhudaur, with the great vale of the Hoarwell rendered in some detail, but I was struck immediately by how much larger the other two realms were, and how apparently well populated and widely settled in comparison to ours, though the map was a thing of great antiquity and much might have changed since the original was first drawn up. It was the case in the Northern Marches of Rhudaur, where many villages and hamlets I had only known as names in the wilderness or clusters of sad overgrown ruins. I felt a pang of sadness and loss when I saw Rushwater and the other vales described with their villages and roads, and upstream of Northford and its surrounding settlements the road winding up the valley as far as an intact watchtower, all now lost and laid in ruins. 

My finger swept down the course of the Hoarwell, or Mitheithel as it was named on the map, past Bearcliffe and Lastbridge and then eastward to the town on the elvish ford, Athrad Edhellen. There beyond the river at the end of a winding road was Imladris, the legendary stronghold of the elves and home of the Half-elven lord who it was reputed had fought alongside Isildur and Elendil in the wars of the last alliance. It seemed strange to see it represented in such a matter of fact way, for the stories went that it was hidden by enchantments and the path there could not be found by mortal men. “There stands still the fairest and noblest house east of the sea. Long years have passed since last I was there, but it is all as clear in my mind as if it were yesterday. Under the roof of that hall and in the valley there is still an echo of the elder days, and things of beauty beyond the powers of mortal description”. There was a light in the Prince’s eyes as he spoke, and once again I noticed the air of otherness about him and I was momentarily lost for words. “You have been there?” I asked him, astonished and intrigued. “Yes I have” he replied, “It has always been customary for the princes of the north kingdom to receive their schooling in letters and lore in the house of Elrond, who is our distant kin. I was sent there many long years ago in my youth, and my son too went there when his time came. Rhudaur may have become estranged from the Eldar, but Arthedain still counts the folk of Rivendell and Lindon as friends and allies. The grey clad company who passed westward through here two days since told us they had overtaken you on the road and that they had been hailed in their own tongue, a rare occurrence indeed in those parts. So we knew of your coming, and I was intrigued to see what manner of great and learned lord had been sent to treat with me”. I was surprised and pleased to see a hint of amusement in his eyes as he spoke. “No great lord at all” I replied ruefully. “Yet you have done what you were sent to do, and done it well” was his reply, and abashed by this unlooked for compliment I said no more.

He told me a little of Rivendell and what he had seen and learnt there, and I felt that I had suddenly walked into a great tale where legends came to life before my very eyes. This great Prince seemed to me a part of them and my reverence for him grew apace with my own humility. I knew that it was unlikely that I would ever find myself in such a situation with him or his like again, and was grateful that he had chosen to spend an hour or two of his time with me. I realised of course that he in turn he hoped to learn more of the situation in Rhudaur by doing so, but I also profited from our discussions, learning of the true strength and purpose of Arthedain and her allies as I had been bid.   
I turned my attention northward on the map once again and noticed that more recent annotations had been added in a flowing script to the map in the wide lands north of Rhudaur. I saw what I assumed to be the fortress at the end of the Trollfang range, since that was known to us from our sacking of it, for it must have been repaired and much strengthened in the long years since. I wondered how they could have had such detailed knowledge of it, and of all the other places and the roads that ran between them, culminating in the fortress and tower of Carn Dum. But then I remembered the Seeing Stone that was kept somewhere close by, and realised once again why our kings had coveted it so much. As if reading my thoughts the Prince suddenly spoke up. “Because of the stones the foe cannot move against us without our knowledge, and we have defeated his forays against us at every turn. I fear however that my father has seen fit to remain secure within his borders rather than take the battle to him, and the opportunity to do so successfully may already have passed, for his strength waxes and both Cardolan and Rhudaur have both suffered greatly in the intervening years”. 

After a moment he continued. “As you have already probably divined the stone also gave us warning of your assault too, though little enough and it was good fortune alone that meant we had men and horses within two day’s march of the tower. Otherwise lifting a siege, or worse still retaking this place would have proved far more costly in time and men. What you met on that day was but a part of the whole force we could put into the field, and when I succeed my father in time I hope to be able to prosecute a campaign against this King Of Angmar, whoever he may be, rather than waiting for him to make his next move and simply parrying it again”. He paused, pensive for a moment and then seemed to come to a decision. “You made sharing any knowledge of any threat to your Kingdom that we became aware of a condition of our treaty, so I will honour that promise. I regret to tell you that your fears regarding the treachery of the Hillmen are well founded, and we have seen men and supplies from Angmar travelling southward and crossing Mitheithel at the Fords without hindrance”. I was filled of shock and dismay, for it is one thing to suspect something to be true but another altogether to hear it confirmed and realise its full import. “I thank you my lord, most sincerely. It is now even more important that I return to Lastbridge at the earliest opportunity to carry these tidings”. He nodded. “Preparations are already in hand, so there is no reason why you should not be able to depart tomorrow as we have discussed. The hour draws on, and I have other matters that demand my attention, but before you descend the tower I am sure that you will first wish to look upon the stone yourself?” I naturally agreed to this suggestion without hesitation.


	82. Chapter 82

I followed the Prince out of the library chamber and we took to the stair again, but this time the climb was very brief as the chamber housing the stone was on the floor directly above. The room we entered was similar to the one we had just left, but was almost bare of any fixture or furnishing save a polished circular marble topped table in the centre upon which a large sphere greater in size than a man’s head sat mounted in a recess. It was covered with a thick velvet cloth richly decorated with complicated embroidered runes. As we approached and Argeleb removed the cloth I saw that it was inky black in colour and seemed to reflect the late afternoon light that streamed in from the four windows from both its surface and from within swirling interior. As I drew closer to it I fancied that my eyes were playing tricks on me and that the swirls in the depths of the sphere were actually moving of their own accord, before realising with a start that this was indeed the case.

“Behold the Palantir Of Amon Sul” said Argeleb, “heirloom of the house of Isildur, a treasure beyond price and of immeasurable age. It is said these jewels were wrought in ancient times, and much of the lore that surrounds them has been lost or forgotten, but they serve us very well. Those with the skill and ability to command them can see things far off and even speak by means of their thoughts to those wielding other stones, even over great distances. They all have their own characteristics, for some more inclined to a particular purpose some are more difficult to wield than others, and some stones have a greater affinity with each other which makes it easier to converse using them. The stones of Amon Sul and that of Annuminas which is now kept at Fornost are such a pair, but the third stone in the north which is kept in the tower of Elostirion upon Emyn Beraid in the far west is of a most singular nature and looks out only over the seas towards the undying lands. Few men are able to bend it to their purpose and it cannot be made to communicate with of the others. Do you wish to look into it?”

I stepped forward nervously and clasped the cold sphere between my hands as I was bid and gazed into the swirling depths. For a few moments nothing seemed to be happening and I was about to step away, disappointed, when the darkness parted like a curtain, and there before my eyes was a room not dissimilar to the one I stood in. However this one was hung with rich tapestries, and beyond a leaded window the late afternoon sun lit the rooftops and towers of a great city. I gasped, unable to comprehend what I was seeing, and then the scene faded and the swirling darkness returned. A heartbeat later it cleared again and I found myself looking out over a wide and empty land of rolling hills, the tall grass swaying under an unseen breeze beneath a cloudless morning sky. There was no sign of any habitation and it put me a little in mind of the Ettenmoors, though rather less bleak. Then the vision was again replaced and I was looking at bleak snow covered summits looming over what I took to be a lake covered in large chunks of floating ice, then a pretty town, then an army marching down a road amongst forested hills, then more empty hills under a leaden sky. It was all too much and I let go of the stone and stepped back a little, quite shaken by the whole experience. The Prince came forward with the cloth and replaced it over the stone. I recounted what I had seen and he smiled. “You saw first the chamber in the citadel at Fornost through the Stone Of Annuminas that lies there. It is unusual for one who is not versed in the use of the stone to join them together in the way you did, I think you must have some aptitude in the matter. The other sights you beheld, given the direction you were facing would have been the North Downs, the Hills Of Evendim beyond, and the Bay of Forochel, all perhaps at a time other than our own. For not all that the stones show us is in the here and now, it is in their particular nature to harvest sights and record events within their range and that is the reason they are kept covered when not in use”.

I thanked him sincerely for the great honour he had done me and we left the chamber. I was about to descend when he smiled again. “We have come thus far, and it would be a pity not to stand upon the summit of the tower which lies just beyond that door. I trust you have a stomach for heights?” I followed him up a further short flight to where the long winding stair came to an abrupt end. “Beware” he said “the winds blow ceaselessly up here!”. He was correct, and as soon as the door was opened the wind howled and swirled around us, and I was glad of my cloak which I clutched tight to me. The roof was surrounded by a low parapet, and above our heads a long banner carrying the flag of Arthedain streamed out over the void from a tall flagpole overhead, whipping and cracking in the gale. The view was absolutely breathtaking, the fortress below looking for all the world like a child’s plaything and the vast camp at the foot of the hill was now an exquisite miniature. All about us on every point of the compass empty lands stretched away to the horizon in the yellow light of the late afternoon sun. “It is a sight to behold, is it not?” shouted the prince, attempting to be heard above the buffeting of the wind, a broad grin on his handsome face. I laughed and agreed, and felt honoured that this man of all men had held out the hand of friendship to me.  
Afterwards we returned to the peace of the stair and descended, parting outside the library room. He told me Norgalad had made arrangements and I would be taken to quarters where I could rest for a while before the evening meal. However he regretted that he would not be joining us as he had pressing matters to discuss with his captains saying he would meet me in the courtyard in the morning and that we would then descend to the plain. I thanked him one last time and we parted and when I reached ground level found that it everything was as he had said. I was taken along through the tightly clustered but well ordered buildings that clung to to the base of the tower to my billet for the night, a plain but comfortable room overlooking a small courtyard and not so different in reality to the one I had called my own at Northford Keep. I stripped off my gear, washed away the dirt of the road using the ewer and bowl that had been left for that purpose and lay gratefully down on the cot, weary but satisfied and very relieved at the way the day had turned out. It had begun with us all fearing it might be our last, and had ended in most unexpected fashion with my spending a few cordial hours in the company of the future king of Arthedain. Completely spent, I fell quickly into a deep and dreamless sleep.

I was woken from my slumbers by one of the servants rapping on my door and telling me that it was time to for the evening meal. I rose groggily and dressed as quickly as I could and joined him, feeling disorientated. I followed him back to the hall where we had eaten earlier, and found my men there, along with others I did not know. I was delighted to see them, and they were full of questions as to what had befallen me in the tower. It seemed they had been very well treated in my absence, and were greatly impressed by what they had seen of the army of Arthedain, commenting that their own lords and masters might learn a thing or two about how to run things from them. A few moments later Lord Norgalad entered, and we all took places at the tables, before falling silent and performing the ritual of facing and remembering the West. It had a particular poignancy in that place, where so many great men had walked before us. The evening meal was just as good as the lunch and I savoured every mouthful, knowing it was unlikely that I would have the chance to eat such good fare again for a very long time, if ever. A combination of the excellent ale we were drinking and comfortable situation I suddenly found myself left me feeling happy and contented. It appeared against all the odds as if I would succeed in my task and return to Lastbridge with the freed prisoners and be reunited with my love. I swore I would do everything in my power to remain at her side.

After we had finished eating we remained there for a while and I spoke long with Norgalad regarding the respective situations in our two countries. Everything he recounted and everything I had seen since I had arrived at Amon Sul spoke of a Kingdom still in the noonday of its power, its people prosperous and content. Having known only strife and decline in my short life it was hard for me to imagine what it must be like living in such a place where lack and hardship were the exception, but once again I had cause to wish that I had been born into a different time and place. “You have the favour of the Prince” said Norgalad changing the subject “You were given an honour accorded to very few when you were allowed to gaze into the Palantir and stand upon the very summit of the tower. One day soon he will be king, and as you know he dreams of reuniting once again the three sundered kingdoms of Arnor, not by force but by consent. Already the Prince of Cardolan has sworn fealty to him, and so now he looks to you carry word back to your realm in the hope that they will see the wisdom in it. Your King is dying, his only son lies in the ground and your armies are weakened and the kingdom is hard beset by foes. Do not fail him”. I heard the note of warning in his tone, but felt compelled to defend myself. “My Lord, as has already been pointed out I am unworthy of the station that was given me here, since those who sent would not risk someone more fitted to the task. My words carry little weight in the court at Lastbridge, and my neck might yet be forfeit for my presumption in coming to an agreement regarding the release of your prisoners here. However I have seen the land I love fall into ruin and everything I hold dear thrown into the balance, and I am of one mind with the Prince as regards our only hope of salvation resting in the mending of long sundered bonds of kinship. For what I have seen here has shown me that the line of the Kings is still strong in Arthedain, and Argeleb is a man I would be honoured to offer my love and loyalty to if circumstances were otherwise”. I bowed my head, and thought from his expression that Norgalad had found my answer satisfactory. We spoke no more on the subject and for the remainder of the meal he regaled me with further tales of the history and lore of the tower and those who had served there, and I was glad to listen to him speak of them. 

At the end of the meal a servant brought scrolls of exquisite workmanship upon which the terms of the treaty between the two kingdoms had been enumerated. I wrote my name and rank on both alongside the flowing script of the Prince’s hand and then the scrolls were taken up and sealed and I was given one of them to take back to Lastbridge with me. So the deed was done, and I wondered once again how it would be received.


	83. Chapter 83

I slept soundly and woke refreshed in the grey twilight before dawn, knowing that today was the day that I would be commencing the journey back to Lastbridge and to my heart’s desire. I did have some misgivings in the cold light of early morning about how the treaty I had had the temerity to sign would be received on my return, but the exchange of lands we did not and could not hold for five hundred or more of our best soldiers did seem a fair exchange to me, and I hoped that others might swallow their pride and be of the same mind. However there was nothing to be done for it for now, and at least I would have my moment riding back into Lastbridge at the head of a column of returning soldiers. I rose and began to ready myself for the day ahead.

After a good breakfast with my men in the hall we gathered our packs and gear and went out into the sunlit courtyard near the gate. There we found our horses had been readied and were waiting for us along with the rest of the Prince’s retinue, their cloaks tugging in the stiff breeze. The Prince arrived a few minutes later dressed in magnificent plate armour and we all mounted up and began the lengthy descent to the plain below. He acknowledged me politely, lacking the familiarity he had shown in the tower the day before, but I thought that was how it must be for the benefit of those around us. I rode alongside him at the head of the column and we were flanked by our banner bearers, but my horse was finding it more difficult to go downhill than his young fresh mount which meant I was constantly falling behind and spoiling the picture. As we descended towards the plain I could see that men were gathering near the road beyond the settlement at the foot of the hill, among them were a large loose group that I surmised must be the prisoners I was about to take back with me. There were also supply carts being readied nearby, and it seemed the Prince had been true to his word and we would not go hungry even on the march home. This small gesture spoke volumes to me once again about the stark differences between our two Kingdoms.

As we approached along the road from the settlement at the foot of the hill I saw that my surmise had been correct and the large group of our soldiers stood in loose order , flanked by guards who seemed relatively few in number. A company of horsemen stood beside them on the road ahead and as we neared I could see straight away that there were men of rank among them. Their captain was surprisingly young, not many years older than I judging by his appearance, and I wondered for a moment that he should have risen so high so soon, until he saluted the Prince and spoke. “Hail Father, all is prepared as was ordered, the prisoners are ready to march and we have provided them with stores for their journey”. His eyes caught mine and he looked me up and down with a certain amount of disdain. The Prince acknowledged him and thanked him. “May I present Esteldir Of Forn Athrad, Emissary of King Elion Of Rhudaur” he said, and then turning to me “I present my son, Prince Arveleg, Commander of The Army Of The Southern Marches”. I saw at once the similarity in bearing and manner they shared, but the son was still clearly young and impetuous and I thought back to the way their horse had charged us down recklessly at the start of the battle. I imagined that Arveleg would have been at their head and it may well have been he himself that slew our own Prince. I bowed to him a little stiffly but said nothing, and he did not return the compliment. Then the company turned their horses towards the crowd of soldiers and I followed them, halting alongside and facing my countrymen.

They eyed us for the most part with great curiosity, and although they would not have known who I was I recognised many of their company badges. They were indeed mostly men from Lastbridge and Bearcliffe companies, apparently hale and well for the most part with the obviously wounded amongst them bearing clean bandages on their hurts. A herald announced us to the men, and then the Prince called out in a clear voice to them. “Men of Rhudaur, terms have successfully been negotiated for your release and you are now free to return to your homes and families. Go with our blessing and if you return here in future then let it be as friend rather than foe”. A muted cheer went up from the crowd, followed by a buzz of conversation, and I was about to speak myself when a figure came forward, causing the guards who stood ahead of us to draw steel and close in on him. With a start I realised I knew the man, for it was none other than my friend Captain Norchon from Bearcliffe, looking weary and grim faced. He bowed low before the princes, and acknowledged me too with a smile and spoke in halting Sindarin. “My Lords, Captain, forgive me my impertinence, but I do not wish to return home with the rest of these men, for nothing awaits me there but despair and death. Rhudaur is doomed, and I would rather give my allegiance to a true Dunedain king if he would have me. Captain Esteldir here will speak for me I hope, and vouch for me, and I also hope he can also forgive and understand my desertion”. He regarded me with pleading in his eyes, and though I did not speak I acknowledged him silently with a nod. The Prince addressed the prisoners again and they fell silent, most unable to understand what had been said and curious as to what was going on. “Men of Rhudaur, this man wishes to remain here and pledge his allegiance to the Kingdom of Arthedain”. An angry buzz of voices rose from the crowd but the Prince continued “I accept this pledge, and if there are any others amongst you of similar mind then make yourselves known also. You will be accorded all the rights and privileges of your current ranks and accepted into our service with honour”. The buzz grew into a tumult and abuse was shouted at Norchon, naming him a turncoat and traitor. The crowd surged forward and were halted by a line of drawn steel, but a surprising number of others came forward quietly, spoke to the guards and were allowed to pass the line and join with Norchon. They had all seen what I had seen myself, and I could not find the heart to condemn them for their actions. It was not a choice to be taken lightly however, for it was likely that they would never see their homes or loved ones again and had thrown themselves on the mercy of a Prince and Kingdom they knew little of. Nonetheless I envied them, and if it had not been for Idhrethil and the love I bore her I too would have joined them there and then. In the event almost sixty men opted to remain behind in Arthedain and take their chances there instead.

When all was done the Prince turned to me and spoke to me. “Take your men home Esteldir. I wish you every good fortune for the days ahead, for I foresee that they will be dark and hard, storm clouds are gathering over your realm. Remember our words, for one day soon I will be King and there may be hope for Rhudaur yet”. He smiled warmly and we clasped hands, parting in friendship, to the evident surprise of some of those around us. I rode out through the line of guards and approached my own men, my retinue following. I brought my horse to an unsteady halt and rose in the stirrups and they approached and gathered round me in a wide arc. “Men of Rhudaur” I began “you are now free to return home, and we will begin our march back eastward without delay. If any are of rank and still command here, let them come forward so that things may be set properly in order”. And so various lieutenants and captains came forward through the crowd and made themselves known, and foremost amongst them, his face full of hatred and confusion at my sudden and unexpected elevation, was Belegon, husband to the woman I loved.


	84. Chapter 84

I had known that there would be a chance that the one man who I most fervently wished had perished in the battle would live and I had tried to prepare myself for that possibility. However it was a hard thing indeed to bear when I faced it, and I was filled with anguish knowing that the future I had begun to imagine for Idhrethil and I now lay in ruins once again. I somehow managed to maintain an outward appearance of calm and told the captains to gather their men and organise teams to push the carts and carry any wounded who were unable to keep pace on foot. However Belegon, foremost among them interrupted me angrily. “You, Northford turncoat, by what authority do you assume command here? Many here outrank you, and yet you presume to give us orders?” My reply was curt and filled with menace, and my hand went to my sword hilt, for I was armed and he was not. With the other I reached into my saddlebag and pulled out the scroll with the King’s seal on it. “By this token. I am the envoy of the King, empowered to speak in his name, and thus any who gainsay me are guilty of treason and hazard their necks. Here and now I outrank you all, and you will do my bidding and follow my horse all the way back to Lastbridge. Any that do wish to do so can either remain here or take their chances alone in the wild as deserters. Do any wish to say anything further?” Belegon looked surprised and dismayed at my outburst but now he made no reply and I returned his look of hatred twice over as he reluctantly turned away to do my bidding.

So the march east began, and what should have been a moment of victory and a source of great satisfaction for me now felt sour and empty. I silently cursed the cruel tides of fate again and again that constantly tore my love away from me every time she finally seemed to be within my grasp. Once again I had good cause to bitterly rue my indecision that fateful night when she could have been mine forever so many years before. My companions on the other hand were in good spirits, but they soon learned to let me alone. At least the weather was clement, the march home took place in unseasonably warm early spring sunshine and the woods and forests we travelled through were alive with birdsong and signs of new life. The carts Arthedain had supplied us with provided us with ample supplies for the journey, and the mood among the majority of the men became almost jovial despite the circumstances of our journey, the camps each night filled with the sound of singing and high spirits among the camp fires as if it were some kind of holiday rather than a return from defeat and captivity.

When we came at last within sight of the West Gate at Lastbridge horns sounded and the gates were closed on us before the guards there realised that we were friend rather than foe. As a result the whole city was alerted to our arrival, and by the time we crossed the river the streets were already filling with cheering crowds. It should have been my proudest moment, riding my horse at the head the column flanked by my men with the banner of Rhudaur streaming in the breeze overhead, but instead all I could think of was poor Idhrethil and the terrible and unlooked for tidings I would be bringing her. We continued triumphantly through the throng in the main square and out along the east road, thence up the narrow way to the Fortress. Here too we were welcomed joyfully by the soldiers within and the folk who were streaming out of the citadel and gathering to greet us in the great courtyard. 

Despite all the celebration around me I came there with a grim expression on my face and a heart full of pain knowing what lay ahead, and when all had cleared the gates and were within the walls I signalled a halt and the column began to dissolve into the gathering crowd with many joyful cries and happy reunions. I dismounted and passed the reins of my horse to one of my companions, for I could see Lord Berthedir, with Princess Elien at his side approaching with other folk from the court. And there beside her was the Lady Idhrethil, a look of delight on her face and happy tears streaming down her cheeks. It was like a dagger to my heart to see her thus, and when our eyes eventually met I frowned momentarily and shook my head, and her tearful expression turned immediately from one of joy to confusion and concern. I met Berthedir and the Princess and saluted the former and bowed to the latter, and was greeted with a mixture of enthusiasm and surprise. “Well done Captain, well done indeed, for we dared not hope for such an outcome as this. You have done a great service, and the King and his councillors will be pleased to hear your tale. If you will accompany us back to the Citadel?” The Princess was smiling radiantly and was adding her own warm congratulations when she was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of Belegon and fell silent. He and Berthedir greeted each other joyfully and embraced, delighted to see each other again. “Come brother” said Berthedir “this calls for a celebration, let us go back and see what can be arranged!” Then Belegon set eyes on Idhrethil and called out gleefully “Ah, wife, you are indeed a sight for sore eyes! Pray, let us return at once to our apartments without delay, for I have unfinished business with you”. With that he seized her roughly by the arm and led her away back through the crowd to much ribald laughter from those within earshot. But I remained impassive, disgusted by his coarse manners and she betrayed no emotion either as she departed though I knew in truth that both our hearts must be breaking.

The Princess too remained in a shocked silence for a moment before remembering herself and asking me if I was very hungry and weary after my journey, and whether I should like to come back with her now for some food and rest. Berthedir had seen some other familiar faces and his attention was elsewhere, so I acceded to her wishes and made ready to depart, telling my companions that I was wanted in the citadel and that I would see them again later. We embraced, and I thanked each of them sincerely but before we could part we were interrupted by the ostler who had returned to collect the old mare. He was clearly delighted to see her again, and was keen to know whether she had given good service, I spoke of her in glowing terms and his grin grew wider still. I removed my gauntlet and stroked her silky neck for a moment and silently thanked her. I doubted I would ever see her or ride her again, but after a shaky start she had proven to the most gentle and loyal servant any could have wished for, for all her advancing years, often anticipating my wishes even before I had made them known. Then she was gone, led away into the crowd and I left my friends and returned to the Princess, who took my arm in a disconcertingly familiar gesture and led me away back towards the inner gate, the crowd parting to let us through and applauding us as we passed.

Once inside the citadel we went up through the maze of passages and galleries to the royal apartments and servants were instructed to bring hot water. I was left to bathe in unaccustomed luxury and wash off the dirt of the journey. Clean garments were brought and I was relieved that I would not have to face the King and court in dirty gear for a second time. When all was done I was reunited with the Princess and thanked her profusely for her kindness, and I followed her to another room hung with elaborate tapestries where a simple but welcome meal had been prepared for me. She sat down at the table opposite me, dismissed the servants and then waited quietly while I satisfied my initial hunger.

“We did not think to see you again” she said softly “but our joy at your return has been marred by he who returned with you. It must have been a cruel thing to bear, knowing your duty meant an end to your own chance of happiness. I am so sorry for what has happened to the two of you, I will still do what I can but you must know what grave danger you would find yourselves in if your true feeling for each other were discovered now, especially you Esteldir”. She took my hand across the table and we exchanged a sorrowful glance and I thanked her once again from the bottom of my heart for the service she had already done us. “You cannot place yourself at risk on our behalf any longer, I will not allow it and I am certain Idhrethil would not either. What is done cannot be undone, and we must all ride the river where the current takes us now”. Then there were footsteps and voices outside the door, and we quickly withdrew our hands. “The tower is incredibly ancient and the view it commands of the plain…” I began as the door was opened and Berthedir entered, looking nonplussed. The Princess explained that she had personally taken charge of my rest and refreshments and that I was now ready to see the King. I rose, bowed low to her, thanked her once again for her kindness and generosity and went with him.


	85. Chapter 85

I followed a taciturn Berthedir to the smaller hall where I had previously stood before the King and his council and received my orders to ride to Amon Sul, and to my great surprise as we entered those seated down the sides of the long table rose to their feet and applauded. I took little satisfaction from it though, wondering with some bitterness how many would still have done so once they knew known what I had dared presume to trade for the prisoners. The King himself sat slumped and motionless at the head of the table, but as we approached I thought I caught a hint of kindness in his sad pain wracked eyes when he beheld me. We did him obeisance and then I was ushered to an empty seat near the foot of the table. I knew that there was nothing for it but to say my part plainly now and let events take their course as they would. 

It was Barachon, as spider like as ever who spoke first. “Captain Esteldir of Northford, I speak for all here when we express our gratitude for the deed you have accomplished in returning the prisoners to us from Amon Sul. But what news of the fate of Prince Eldir?” I looked the old King in the eye as I replied and saw the anguish clearly written there. “He fell in battle as we feared, leading his men bravely from the front“ I began. “Their horse greatly outnumbered ours, and he was swept away in their first charge. He lies now along with his brothers in five great mounds beside the East Road. The Princes of Arthedain laid them to rest with all due honour and ceremony, and would not countenance that his sleep should be disturbed”. The King nodded sadly in acknowledgement and Barachon asked me to continue and give an account of what had befallen me there.

“We were greeted with courtesy and respect for the flag of parley, but if it had not been for the curiosity of Prince Argeleb, Crown Prince of Arthedain who commanded there then we would not have been received, for we were deemed too lowly to treat with him”. One of those seated further up the table snorted and remarked on the eternal arrogance of our foe, but I cut him short. “Nay my Lord” I replied “I speak of one in whose veins the line of the first kings runs straight and true. He is a great man, strong, wise and learned, and bears the weight of his many years far more lightly than lesser men. It would have been meet to send one far more worthy in status and rank than I to negotiate with him”. There was silence, and I realised that my words might been seen as impertinent and a rebuke to the assembled company “However he did receive me, and I learned much that may be to our advantage. For though he is not yet king his father grows old and it may not be long before he will rule in turn. Unlike his father I believe that he is disposed to help us if we wish it, for he holds our long kinship still to be of value and dreams of reuniting the three sundered kingdoms again”.

Once again I was interrupted, this time by Barachon himself, who spoke contemptuously. “I fear you betray your youth and naivety here Captain, for this Prince has used his guile to charm and flatter you and you have swallowed his sweet words of kinship and unity when what he really intends, no doubt, is conquest and subjugation. Already Cardolan is falling under his yoke, and we will not suffer the same fate”. It was my turn to bristle. “My Lord, the host that crushed the best strength we could put forward was but a small part of the mightof Arthedain, quickly brought to bear when our approach was discovered via the seeing stone. Their men are well trained, well fed and well equipped and their people live at peace and untroubled behind their defences. Do you think for one moment that they could not overcome us if they chose to? Cardolan too has been ravaged by the forces of Angmar, and could not have prevailed alone, and neither can we. The seeing stone has revealed that the fords of the Hoarwell are now open to our enemy, and that we are played false by the Hillmen, who are waiting for their moment to wreak their revenge upon us. If so the setting aside of old emnities is our only hope”. Barachon was angry and rose from his seat to berate me. “Soldier, you presume far too much, it is not for you to counsel us on matters of state. And you have only this prince’s word of what he has seen in the stone, do you not think he might say such a thing to falsely sow discord in our realm? Now continue with your account, and hold to the facts of the matter, do not forget in whose presence you find yourself”. I glanced at the King, but he remained slumped in his seat, his ruined face expressionless and he did not acknowledge me.

I continued, full of growing anger and contempt for this vile old spider of a man and his attempts to belittle me. “As you will be aware the vanquished do not dictate terms to the victor, and the terms that were agreed for the release of our prisoners were onerous. They would not countenance the idea of receiving sums of ransom for those of name and rank alone, but insisted that all or none would be released, and also that the prisoners should be given a choice as to whether they remained or returned home. Some sixty or more did decide to remain and throw their lot in with the army of Arthedain…” This time it was Berthedir who interrupted me. “Vile cowards and deserters, why would they choose such a course?” I thought of Norchon, a brave and loyal friend driven to despair by the hopelessness of the task before him in Bearcliffe. “Because my Lord, they have lost hope and fear we are doomed, and they are weary of endless lack and hunger. As prisoners of Arthedain many of them were better fed and sheltered than they ever were as soldiers in the King‘s service”. He too looked suddenly furious at my words but I did not allow him to reply, and pulling the scroll from inside my surcoat I unrolled it and laid it on the table before me. “The terms of the treaty agreed by Esteldir, envoy of King Elion of Rhudaur and Crown Prince Argeleb of Arthedain are as follows: firstly that the Kingdom of Rhudaur relinquishs in perpetuity any sole claim to sovereignty over the Watchtower of Amon Sul and the seeing stone held there. Secondly that the Kingdom of Rhudaur undertakes never to come again in force of arms into the lands west of the Hoarwell. And thirdly that those lands west of the Hoarwell and all former settlements along the Great East Road are ceded to the control of the Princes of Cardolan. In exchange all prisoners held after the battle of Amon Sul will be released and free to return home with immediate effect, and that the Kingdom of Arthedain undertakes to send warning of any grave peril to the Kingdom of Rhudaur should they become aware of it through the agency of the seeing stone of Amon Sul”. 

There was a moment of stunned silence and then uproar in the chamber, and those around the table leapt to their feet shouting and gesticulating towards me. I too rose and stood defiantly, arms crossed, knowing that I had passed a point of no return. Eventually Barachon called the gathering to order and then rounded on me, furious. “By what authority, and with what possible reason did you submit to such terms?” I drew out my letter of credential and threw it down on the table alongside the treaty. “By the authority vested in me by the King and set out in this document. I relinquished a claim we cannot hope to realise, and lands we cannot hope to hold or defend for five hundred desperately needed soldiers, and a promise that any grave threat to us seen in the stone would be communicated to us”. I gritted my teeth and continued “It did not seem so ill a bargain to me in the tower of Amon Sul, and it does not now.”. Berthedir cried out that I betrayed my King and realm, and made to approach and seize me, but the renewed uproar was suddenly cut short by a raucous cry for silence from the King, who had risen to an upright position in his seat. “Silence” he repeated in a voice that suddenly recalled some of its former strength and authority and in a moment not a breath could be heard in that chamber. “Esteldir son of Galdirion, we thank you for your loyal service, and your honest words. You did as you were bid and we are not displeased with your actions, and should the Prince be true to his word then we are indeed left in a better position than before. Forgive my counsellors and captains their hasty words here, for they spend too much time plotting and scheming within these walls and too little outside them where the hard work is to be done. If you would name a boon, then I am minded to grant it”. I was as surprised as anyone at this turn of events, and could not initially think of a suitable reply, but then a thought came to me. “My liege, there is one small thing that would give me much pleasure, and that would be to be granted access to the Library here in the Citadel when my duties allow, for my old friend Angon showed me many wonders there that I desire to look upon again”. The mention of his name stirred something in the King and he nodded. “It shall be so. Now I am weary, and you are all dismissed”. With that he slumped back in his chair, plainly exhausted by the effort his intervention had cost him, his ruined face wracked with pain and his breath coming in sobs, and servants came quickly to his side to attend to him. We all bowed and I left the chamber with the others but kept my eyes straight ahead and spoke to none, parting from them as soon as the opportunity arose and making my way back to the gatehouse alone.

As I crossed the great courtyard towards the halls where I hoped to find my men my rage subsided and I felt weary and heartsick. In the space of an afternoon I had lost the woman I loved and made dangerous enemies into the bargain. Perhaps it would have been better for me if I had deserted and remained at Amon Sul, but I could still not have brought myself to follow that course and know I would never see Idhrethil again, for at least this way some little hope remained. When I reach our billet I was told by an orderly that my men, released from service for a week to rest recover from their journey had left to descend into the town and seek the comforts of an inn. Without a moments hesitation I stripped off my finery, and set off in pursuit.


	86. Chapter 86

I spent the next few days frequenting the alehouses of Lastbridge with my companions in a drunken stupor, trying to numb the overwhelming feeling of loss and despair that had overwhelmed me. For a little while I succeeded but the respite a man finds in ale and good companionship is only ever fleeting, and after waking up yet again feeling tired and ill I decided I had had enough ale for any man and that I would instead test the king’s promise to allow me entry to the Library and spend the day there instead. It had been an impulse to ask for that as my reward, but one I was pleased with in hindsight for I genuinely desired to look again upon what lay within. I also knew there was slight a chance I might see Idhrethil in the citadel or that she might even pass that way herself. My heart ached at the thought, but I tried to quell any hope or expectation, for I knew that while ever her beastly husband lived she was lost to me. 

To my surprise and satisfaction I found that my visit had indeed been anticipated at the gatehouse and I was admitted, declining the offer of a servant to show me the way which I now knew well enough. I made my way to the library unhindered and unchallenged and found myself before the ancient door, which I found was not locked or barred. Within all was as I had remembered it, the large chamber remained silent, dusty and neglected and I went in, closing the door behind me. I remembered the first time I had entered there, and had set eyes on the grave and handsome woman who had been studying some ancient volume alongside Lord Angon. I sighed, and let the quiet of the place settle on me, for here at least I knew I might find some peace and solace.

So it proved, and for the next few days I spent my time reading and trying to decipher some of the scripts I had been unable to read previously. It was a difficult task and I became greatly absorbed in it, but the text, which did indeed appear to be a first hand account of the wars of the Last Alliance made for a truly absorbing read. I also found some scrolls and parchments on one of the tables which were of much more recent origin, and when I studied them my heart leapt with joy, for I recognised Angon’s hand and realised I had discovered what he had been working on before his last illness. There, carefully laid out and annotated was his own update to the venerable History of Rhudaur that I had studied so intently whilst I was imprisoned in the dungeons of Northford. He had been bringing the tale of our realm right up to the period of the assault on High Burgh, and through his careful work I learned what had passed in detail in the years before my birth including the previous attempt to take Amon Sul and the early years of our long fight with Angmar. I realised with a pang as I reached the period after Angon’s exile south that I had provided him with much of the material that he had used or was preparing to use, and I recalled him once again with tender feelings of love and loss.

My rest period was almost at an end and I was spending the last day of it in patient study in the library knowing I would soon have to return to my duties, when to my great surprise I heard footsteps approach and pause outside the door. Then it opened slowly and someone came in, but I could not see who they were from my seat. I rose, curious as to who the unlooked for visitor might be, for I had had none in all the time I had been there. I saw that it was Idhrethil, and my heart leapt in my chest. Without hesitation we flew into each other’s arms, held each other tight for a long wordless moment, and then drew apart to look upon each other again in the dusty twilight. She was as beautiful as ever, but pale and careworn, and there was a sadness in her beautiful dark eyes. “Oh my love” she sighed “I have longed to see again, and it gladdens my heart. The Princess told me that I might find you here, but this is the first opportunity that I have had to escape and I fear I cannot tarry long. How fare you?” I told her that I was well, but that my heart was broken and that I feared for what the future now held for us. She nodded and tears started to her eyes “While ever we both live we must never give up hope” she said softly “even if the days grow so dark that it our love becomes all that remains to us”. We held each other close once again, and our tears mingled in the quiet. I had so much that I had wanted to say to her in those short precious minutes but the words would not come, and then she pulled away from me with a renewed look of anxiety in her eyes. “I must go before I am missed, but I will call here again when I can, and perhaps I may find you again here one day. Be strong my love.” We came together once again, shared a last passionate and desperate kiss and then she was gone, with one last backward glance full of love and longing.

There had been much coming and going of soldiery from the citadel in the weeks we had been rested, and it was no surprise when a messenger came to find us on the morning we were preparing to return to duty. He told me to report to Captain Belegon in the citadel immediately, and my heart sank, for this did not bode at all well and I suspected that any hope I might have harboured of a posting in Lastbridge was likely to have been in vain. I made my way there under the warm sun of a fine spring morning, but it gave me no pleasure, and when I finally reached Belegon his demeanour gave me even less. I saluted and stood before him, impassive, and he grinned and came up close, as if daring me to react. “Ah, High Lord Esteldir, I am pleased to see that you have remembered that you are just a common half hill-pig soldier after all. You are to take what remains of your rag tag company and a few other strays we’ve managed to sweep up for you and report to that whining old fool Turchon at Bearcliffe. He complains constantly to us that he does not have enough men to keep order in that dunghill of a town of his and your ability to speak hill-pig will be a great asset to him. Any questions? No? Then get out of my sight”. I bore this all impassively, saluted and left, silently cursing him in the bitterest terms, my hand clenching and unclenching on my sword hilt as I went along the passageways and stairs that led back to the gatehouse. It knew it should have come as no surprise that I should be sent back northward, but it was still a bitter thing to swallow having to leave Lastbridge and abandon any immediate hope of seeing the Idhrethil. However I knew there was nothing I could do about it.

As I had done before in difficult times I threw myself instead into the execution of my duties and called the men who had gathered in the courtyard to attention as I approached them. Aside of those who had travelled with me to Amon Sul and the other veterans from Northford there were also soldiers of various ranks from other companies that had suffered such heavy losses that they were no longer viable. They numbered around forty, bringing the overall number under my command close to the one hundred mark, and I spoke briefly to them, introducing myself and telling them that I would get to know them better all better on the march north. Many of them already knew who I was and were somewhat surprised to see my transformation from mounted commander to regular captain, but at least I had been allowed to keep my new gear and plate. I told them where we were bound, which was good news for those of the men that hailed from Bearcliffe and the surrounding area but the rest seemed to share my reluctance to leave Lastbridge.

The two day march passed uneventfully and the fine weather continued, but as had happened more than once before I went north in a black mood and I was filled with foreboding at what lay ahead. Lord Turchon might be many things but he was no fool and I could well believe that we would find that things went ill at Bearcliffe. I was also dismayed that the warning I had brought back from Argeleb regarding the treachery of the Hillmen appeared to have been ignored, and I knew that if and when they made their move then it was highly likely that Bearcliffe would be the first thing in their path. It did not seem possible that we would not see Northford again this time either and as we marched I remembered the many good men, now gone, in whose company I had made the same journey before. I wondered too what had become of Daeron, almost the last friend that remained to me from the old days. It would have been good to be able to see him again and speak to him of my time at Amon Sul, for I knew it would have interested him greatly and I was certain he would have been an ally and taken my part. For he of all men respected the old Dunedain traditions and could clearly see the peril we found ourselves in. I dearly wished that I might see him again but knew it might be a long time before our paths crossed again as thing stood. The general feeling of loss and loneliness further added to my despondency and it was not relieved when the familiar and singular towering crag and Keep began to loom into view ahead of us in the valley. For better or worse I knew that it would be my home now for the foreseeable future, and I strongly suspected that things would turn out to be worse rather than better.


	87. Chapter 87

The last time I had spoken with Lord Turchon of Bearcliffe we had parted in anger, and I did not expect a warm welcome from him as I climbed the long stair in the tower where he kept his chambers, a stair which put me a little in mind of the one that climbed to such a prodigious height at Amon Sul. However to my great surprise I found him a much changed man, and my welcome was anything but hostile. He was no longer by any measure fat, and was now gaunt and loose skinned. His previous arrogance and hostility was replaced by something approaching relief and pleasure when he beheld me. “Captain Esteldir, I welcome you and your men to Bearcliffe, for too many marched south this spring and have not returned and the courage and strength of the men of Northford is a thing of renown here. I will not pretend to you that things go well or that you and your men are likely to have an easy time of it, for we are far too few and our troubles grow like storm clouds. I fear that storm will break soon and that it may come down to us down the vale to the east from from High Burgh. Things are afoot there and the Hillmen are thirsty for revenge, and with so many of their folk here the town already simmers with discontent. Our King does not have long to live by all accounts and now his heir is slain the matter of the succession is at best unclear and is likely to be disputed. The march on Amon Sul was an act of great folly that has left us greatly weakened”. I found myself warming to him, for his son had been a fine man and I could now at last see some of the same qualities in the father. I replied frankly, telling him of what had seen and heard in Lastbridge and at Amon Sul but I knew it would bring him little comfort.

So it was that I was installed as Senior Captain in command at the garrison and I soon found that Turchon’s warnings of the difficulties we were likely to face were fully realised. Many of the men left under my command were either hopelessly young and inexperienced or old veterans and the bustling streets of the town and the hovels beyond the walls seethed with discontent and mischief. The dungeons in the Keep were overflowing and I regrettably soon found myself presiding over more executions, though this time I knew that most of those receiving summary punishment were likely to have been guilty of the acts that had cost them their necks. I still found the whole thing distasteful, and it apparently did nothing to quell the unrest on the streets or dissuade those who stole, robbed and murdered to reconsider their behaviour. I could understand how a man such as Norchon could have been driven to despair by the unrelenting task before him, but I had already seen too much and had little hope for the future so I held doggedly to the task that had been set before me, for the sake of my Lord, my men and the many decent folk who remained in the town. Long however were the hours I spent keeping a restless watch upon the highest tower of the Keep, just as I had in Northford, and they brought me no solace, for my heart was filled with bitterness and longing, but little hope.

Another fine summer had waned into autumn and one cold and blustery day I was in the ward room at the Keep when I received word that some trader’s wains from Lastbridge had been attacked by a mob near the South Gate and stripped of the goods they had been carrying. The furious owner was down in the courtyard demanding to see the captain and claiming recompense. Such events were not unusual, and I was disappointed that one of my patrols had not spotted the trouble brewing and called for reinforcements to try and prevent it, for these events often followed a predicable pattern. I reluctantly left my place beside the warm fire and made my way down through the Keep to the courtyard with a curious feeling of anticipation, for the way that the request for my presence had been framed had aroused my suspicions. Those suspicions turned out to be well founded, for there, flanked by two hulking Hillmen and dressed in finery was none other than Fodric himself. He looked old and unwell, for it seemed the years had not been kind to him, and he ceased his shouting and his face froze for a moment in shock and surprise when he realised who it was that stood before him. The years, too much ale and too many cares had diminished him, whilst I now stood before him in my prime, a battle hardened leader of men in good gear. “So Fodric, we meet again” I began, with scarcely concealed hatred in my voice. “What is your plaint?” To my inward delight he appeared to quail for a moment before recovering and he then began listing his injuries and losses with far less stridency than before. “The incident was regrettable, but not unusual in the troubled times we now find ourselves in” I began icily “I will make sure that my men will do their best to apprehend the perpetrators and I will step up our patrols on the streets. However in turn make sure that any future complaint is made at the gatehouse and do not bring armed men into my Keep again, for if you do I will consider it a hostile act and have you thrown into my dungeons,” With that he, looking dismayed, turned and left with his guards as quickly as what remained of their dignity would allow.

The thirst for vengeance and the hatred of my oldest enemy that had been reawakened by our unexpected meeting gave me new purpose. In the next few days I was able, partly by the use of my rank and position to determine where he lodged when in Bearcliffe and what his habits were. He still frequented the tavern where I had seen him so many years before and just as he had in Northford kept a house under the walls of the keep amongst the wealthy and those of rank in the town. It transpired that despite a downturn in his fortunes he was still a man of considerable wealth and influence, but one who now could also count many enemies. Turchon for one hated him, for he was a constant source of trouble and took every opportunity to undermine him amongst those of influence whose ear he still had in Lastbridge.

So it was that I found myself lurking once again in the night shadows watching and waiting for a chance to claim my vengeance. Night after night I hoped an opportunity would present itself, but Fodric was no fool and went always in company and with at least three or four guards. One or two I might have had a hope of besting with the advantage of surprise and so have my way clear with their master, but more than that and not only would my quarry have the opportunity to escape but skilled and strong as I might be in arms there would still be a good possibility that I too might not emerge unscathed. In the end, filled with anger and frustration at my quarry being so close I knew that I would need to find other means of obtaining my revenge. I briefly considered setting his house ablaze whilst he was within, and it did seem a meet course of action, but he kept a full household of servants with whom I had no quarrel and whose deaths I did not want my conscience. Not only that, but I realised that when I did succeed that I would want him to know what was happening, and I wanted to force him to remember those whose lives he had cut short so many years before. 

It was during one of my lonely night watches on the tower that the realisation suddenly came to me that I had been a fool, and that the means of bringing Fodric to justice had been lying within my grasp all the while. For I had been thinking like the young soldier of low rank that I had once been rather than the seasoned captain I now was, for I too now had power and influence that I could wield to my own ends. Early the following morning I made the short journey from the Keep to the nearby street where I knew Fodric to be at home, accompanied by a squad of my best and most loyal men. As we approached the gate large dogs began barking inside and there were shouts and the sound of men rousing themselves. “Open, in the name of the King” I shouted, and drew my sword, my men doing likewise. “I have a warrant from the Lord Of Bearcliffe to search this house”. This was untrue, but I was counting on Turchon’s enmity for Fodric to carry me through. I waited for a moment and called out again “open in the name of the King, or we will break the door and your punishment for resisting us will be swift and sure”. Perhaps some of those hiding within had seen me presiding at too many executions and my reputation for severity made them quail, for the bolts drew back with a scraping sound and we were admitted to the courtyard. There a group of armed men and curious servants had gathered. I kept the initiative, striding forward and sheathing my sword as I went, my men streaming out around me and disarming the outnumbered guards with little resistance. I rounded on one of the servants, seizing her my the arm and demanding that she take me to her master’s chamber. We climbed some stairs and passed down a long corridor very similar to the one where he had dwelt in Northford. As we did so he burst out of the room at the far end, a cloak thrown hastily over his night shirt and a look of alarm on his face. “What is the meaning of this? You will pay for this!” he blustered shrilly, but I nodded to my sergeant to remain with him while I pushed past him and entered his stuffy and dimly lit bed chamber. Some of my men followed me in, threw open the shutters and began to search the place none too gently. Fodric had evidently not become any more imaginative in terms of his choice of hiding places in the intervening years and it was not long before the ornate carved strongbox that had held my grandmother’s titles and deeds came to light among a substantial collection of valuables. There was no mistaking it and to my delight all the original papers still lay within, creased and yellow with age. “I have what I need” I told my men. “Take him back to the Keep”.


	88. Chapter 88

“That is a large fish that you have reeled in” said Lord Turchon drily as we stood in his chambers later on that morning. “I hope you have the strength to land it, for it has many influential friends in Lastbridge”. I thought I caught a hint of amusement in his sunken eyes, and shook my head. “I suspect many of those friends already hold me in low esteem, so I have little to lose on that score. If it please you we must act quickly in this matter before the news reaches them and they send word back north to overrule us”. He looked at me with a curious expression. “I am minded to do as you suggest, for like you have little to lose in the esteem of our masters and have no love for this odious man, but first I must know more of this matter. What is the significance of the wooden box?” I told him the whole tale from beginning to end, and his curiosity turned first to disbelief and then to anger. “So, you now understand why I have hungered for justice and revenge for the last fifteen years” I concluded. “This Fodric killed my family, destroyed my home and stole my birthright”.

Word of the morning’s events spread quickly through the town and the Great Hall at the Keep where Lord Turchon conducted his business was full to bursting later that afternoon when my prisoner was brought forward to face judgement. The hubbub of voices fell silent as Turchon, flanked by guards, took his seat on the dais and Fodric was led in, hands bound and put onto his knees in front of him. From where I was standing behind the seat I could see the fear in Fodric’s bloated face and his eyes darting to and fro as if in some desperate attempt to find succour, but I could feel no pity. His distress must have been heightened by the fact he still wore his night shirt in that public place, and he looked shabby and vulnerable as a result, a far cry from the prosperous and arrogant man who had stood in my courtyard a few days before. “Who brings complaint against this man?” called out Turchon, and I stepped forward from my place in the shadows, my gear clean, my breastplate polished making quite the picture and I saw Fodrics eyes widen in alarm when he beheld me. “I, Esteldir son of Galdirion of Rushwater Vale, Senior Captain of Bearcliffe Garrison and King’s Emissary. I accuse this man, Fodric of Northford of theft and murder. Murder of my mother, Faelneth, my Grandmother Branniel and the serving girl Lathra, and the theft of a jewellery box containing family jewels and the titles to my deceased grandfather’s carting business”. I continued, speaking in detail of the last evening I had spent with my family, Fodric’s visit, his rejected proposal and his parting threat to us. A great hush had fallen on the hall and I knew my chance had come at last. I tried to make every word count.

I continued, telling of my awakening to find my home ablaze with a fire of unnatural ferocity. Only one man would have had ready access to enough of the valuable lamp oil required to stoke such conflagration, and that was the man who brought it up from the south before it was sold at the market. I told them of my orphaning, and of how Fodric, having stolen the box containing the titles to the business he coveted then claimed that they had been freely given to him, and he had greatly prospered as a result. I then related the tale of how I had forced my way into his house in Northford after the First Battle of the Ford and discovered the same box and its papers under his bed, but that when I had gone to Lord Nordir and made plaint against him I had treated with contempt and warned as to my future conduct. But now that very morning my men had found the box and those very documents still in his possession. Turchon stirred in his seat. “Do we have this box here? Let it be brought to me”. One of my men did so and he inspected it closely, outside and in, and began carefully unfolding the documents it contained. “A thing of great age and value I do not doubt, marred by someone who forced the clasp with a knife. Captain Esteldir, pray tell us how this article demonstrates the guilt of the accused?” 

“Of itself it does not, for you only have my word against his own that it was my grandmother’s and that she kept all her valuable articles within it. He has stated previously that she gave him the titles to the family carting business in token of all the hard work he did keeping it running after my grandfather fell ill, and in hope of my mother’s affection and hoped for eventual re marriage to him. That is a vile lie, but one that stands on its own two feet. What he cannot explain satisfactorily is how he came by the other documents that the box contains, which relate to our ancient holdings in Rushwater Vale, documents which he would never have had any valid reason to possess. My grandmother was of sound mind and would never have parted with them in error, for they were of too great a value to her”. Turchon leafed carefully through the fragile parchments in his hand and then directed his gaze towards Fodric. “What he says is true, how do you account for this?” The latter could give no answer at first, and I saw the fear growing in his eyes, the same fear I had seen so often in battle in the eyes of those who knew they were bested, but then he found his voice and rallied. “This is a vile and baseless plot, hatched by this vengeful boy jealous that I had my way with his slattern of a mother when he was a pup, and the bitter old fool sitting here before me that I have obviously had the better of once too often. I am an upstanding and loyal subject of the King, and he will be displeased when he hears how unjustly I have been dealt with here. You do not know with whom you trifle!” He stood, trying to muster some dignity, and the hall exploded into a cacophony of cheers, shouts and jeers, for it appeared that he was not as universally liked and admired amongst the townsfolk as he had hoped. Eventually order was restored and Turchon once again turned to Fodric, a look of pained forbearance on his face. “Do you have anything further to say in your defence?” Fodric’s puffy face assumed an expression of disdain. “I do not, and you had better have your explanation for this impertinence ready when my friend Lord Barachon hears of this”. He turned to face his audience and got just a few short cheers for his trouble. “In which case” continued Turchon “you shall all now hear my judgement in this matter. The accusations against you are credible and detailed, though they cannot be supported by any witnesses, having taken place so long ago in a different place. However you have given no reply regarding the wooden box and its contents or any explanation as to how you came by them, and so I have no choice but to infer your guilt in the matter. The accusation of murder and theft against you from Esteldir of Northford is upheld. The punishment is death, and I see no reason for it to be delayed, let it be meted out forthwith”. 

Fodric had clearly been hoping that sufficient time would elapse for Lastbridge to get wind of his incarceration and command his release so this was a bitter blow to him, and his self assurance was immediately replaced by panic as he realised the trap he had sprung on himself. He was dragged from the hall between two of my men struggling with his pleas for mercy drowned out by the noise of the baying crowd. I followed, my face a mask but my heart filled with elation, for it felt as if a burden were being lifted from my shoulders. Outside a fine rain was falling out of the grey late afternoon sky, and ravens were wheeling high overhead against the great looming crag. I have always found executions distasteful compared to a relatively clean death in battle, but this time I felt no pity for the victim, and I held his gaze mercilessly as he was dragged past me. As went by he shrieked a curse at me and spat in my face, receiving a cuff from one of the guards for his trouble, but I remained impassive. He had his hands bound and the sack was placed over his head and suddenly the moment I waited for for so long had arrived. When the deed was done I turned and walked away, yet I knew at once that no satisfaction at what had finally befallen their murderer would ever compensate for the loss of those he had taken from me. It was a hollow victory, but a victory nonetheless.


	89. Chapter 89

Late the following day and to my great disgust a mounted messenger arrived from Lastbridge carrying an order commanding the release of Fodric of Northford. He was summarily sent back the way he had come with the news that the Prisoner had already been executed after being judged guilty of murder. I knew that Turchon’s and my own standing in Lastbridge would now be even lower and the whole episode left me dismayed at just how influential and well connected Fodric had clearly become. However when his affairs were set in order it became clear that little actual wealth remained to him, in Bearcliffe at least. It seemed he too had suffered as a result of the straightened times we were all living in, perhaps more than most since his main paymaster would have been the treasury of Rhudaur, which was now largely empty. I had not personally given any thought to the possibility that I might benefit from`Fodric’s death, but as Turchon pointed out in theory at least ownership of the carting business would revert to me as the heir of the rightful owner. I did not have long to consider the possibility of any change for the better in my station and fortune though, as a another message soon arrived from Lastbridge announcing that all Fodric’s goods, his carts, men and beasts, had been requisitioned to the service of the King. For some men that might have been cause for great bitterness, but I had not sought that which had been taken from me and in truth I knew little other than my current life as a soldier. The thought of finding myself removed from everything I knew, however many hardships that entailed, and having to try to make my way alone in the world as a merchant or trader filled me with dismay.

So, with any chance of betterment gone I remained in Bearcliffe for the next three years as Turchon’s right hand man, and we soon became fast friends. During that time the situation in the town and the country at large grew increasingly desperate and disordered, and if it were not for the supplies that were sent down the Vale of the White River during the harsh winters from High Burgh many would have starved to death. I only had occasion to visit Lastbridge a handful of times in those years and neither saw nor had any news of Idhrethil during that time. And when I attempted to exercise my right to enter the citadel and visit the library I found my way barred at the gatehouse, for while the King still lived his malady worsened and it seemed his influence waned with it. I began to fear that I would never see her again, but the thought that somewhere she might be drawing strength from the knowledge that I lived and loved her still gave me some comfort in those dark days.

Finally in the Spring of 1340 the news we had all anticipated for a long time reached us, that King Elion of Rhudaur had finally died of his long illness. Preparations were immediately put in place for Lord Turchon to travel south to attend the burial, and presumably the crowning that would follow it. I had assumed, since I was not named in the message requiring his attendance that I would remain in Bearcliffe and deputise for him, something which disappointed me somewhat. For not only had I found myself liking this King who had shown me some favour, but there was always the possibility I might see my love again, even if it were only from a distance. Turchon however was insistent that I should accompany him, especially so when news reached us that the Chieftain of the Hillmen was travelling from High Burgh with a party that would reach us in two days time. We set to making preparations for the arrival of our esteemed guest and the journey that would follow, and on the day of his arrival I was sent up the road to the Boundary Stone to meet him and his party and did him the courtesy of greeting him in his own tongue.

He came on foot, well clothed in good gear like his predecessor and accompanied by small guard of about two dozen, more than matched by the number that had marched there with me. I greeted him formally and he responded in the correct manner but without warmth, perhaps deeming me too young to treat with him on an equal footing just as his brother had in Northford. Brodir was like in appearance and manner to Daelric, and like him I could see why his men would love him and wish to do his bidding. Since his installation as Chieftain he had professed loyalty to the king, the Shaws had remained quiet with its people apparently keeping their own counsel, but if what Argeleb had told me regarding the commerce across the fords was true then his loyalty lay elsewhere and he was playing us all false. I pondered on this as my men and I formed an honour guard and led him down into Bearcliffe. News of his arrival had spread rapidly and by the time we reached the walls the road was lined at least half a dozen deep with cheering townsfolk, many of them praising the man who had saved them with his generosity when their own rulers had ignored their plight.

We climbed the steep way up to the Keep, eventually leaving the crowds behind us, and I led him to the Great Hall as arranged to be received by Turchon. They had met many times before and greeted each other with some familiarity and mutual respect before retiring to Turchon’s private apartments for a dinner. I then oversaw the arrangements for his guards and returned to the task of preparing for my own departure on the morrow. 

Later that evening, knowing that I would not have the opportunity to do so again for a while I ascended the great tower at dusk to watch and think. The great bear rock still loomed above me, but it was close and familiar now, streaked with water and moss and precarious terraces of vegetation towards its crown. Overhead the first stars were twinkling into life and in the still air mist was beginning to gather in pockets over the Hoarwell, and the smokes of many fires across and outside the town climbed and hung like pillars in the still air. To the north in the gathering dark lay the land of my birth, and to the south Lastbridge the woman who I had loved and lost, and I had gazed with pain and longing in both directions many times, thinking on what was and what could have been. Tonight I felt uneasy, for with the death of the King it seemed that matters had finally come to a head, and many things would now change, perhaps not for the better. Firstly there was the matter of the succession, with the male heir lost, and no clear successor otherwise. There was the Princess of course, and there was precedent for a woman to take the crown in the traditions of Numenor, but it had never to my knowledge been allowed to happen since the downfall and exile. I recoiled at the thought of such a sweet and gentle creature as Elien being thrust into the centre of power, something for which she was totally unsuited by nature and which I knew would only bring her pain and unhappiness. Aside of her several might make claim to the throne, since all the great Dunedain families of Rhudaur had by necessity intermarried frequently down the years, and it had seemed that every man of rank was another’s cousin. Even my old friend Daeron, who I had not seen for so long and missed bitterly might justly put himself forward in such a situation, and with him some hope for the future might indeed be rekindled, but I knew we were far more likely to end up with the likes of Berthedir taking the crown. Dismayed at this last thought, and with the cool night air of late spring eating suddenly into my bones I took one last look around and descended, little suspecting that it would be the last time I would ever stand in that place, for my unease was well founded, and the terrible events that would change the courses of all our lives were just about to unfold.


	90. Chapter 90

When we arrived in Lastbridge the Chieftain of the Hillmen was again greeted by cheering crowds, for here too the generosity of his people had saved many from starvation only a few months before. It seemed strange to find myself once again leading a column of men through the streets to such approbation, but much had changed in that short time and it was not I who was the object of the people’s attention. Upon our arrival at the Fortress Brodir was met with all due ceremony by Lord Barachon and we were taken into the Citadel. Here, somewhat to my surprise it was Princess Elien who received us in the throne room, seated below the empty dais with her Lords and Captains about her. She looked sad and very beautiful in her mourning attire and received us and our condolences with dignity and great courtesy, and I wondered perhaps if I had underestimated her strength and character. I was gratified that she chose to name me also in welcome and thought I saw something in her eyes as she did so. Of Idhrethil though there was no immediate sign, although her loathsome husband was there alongside Berthedir, and many others whose faces I knew either from my previous visits to the Citadel or the various campaigns I had fought in.

After the formalities had been completed Brodir and his men left with Berthedir and we were shown to an antechamber where food and drink had been provided. There, to my surprise and delight I found none other than my old friend Daeron waiting for me. It was a joyful reunion indeed, for it had been many years since I had last seen him, my dearest friend and mentor. The years had been kind to him, for he had not only lost some of his boyish looks but also put on a little weight. He looked upon me with approval, declaring that he had heard much news of my exploits and was looking forward to hearing of them first hand. His lands in the south had avoided the worst of the hardships that had befallen much of the rest of the Kingdom, though they too had lost many good men in the campaign to recapture Amon Sul. Many of those I had served with in the North had fallen there, but Cenric had not been among them, since Daeron had not wished to risk him in what he deemed to be a foolhardy enterprise. To my further delight it transpired that he too had travelled north for the funeral ceremony as one who had fought alongside the old king in the campaigns against Angmar, and I would soon have the opportunity to speak with him as well. Our happy discussion was however soon cut short as the lords and others of high rank present were called to a Council. Turchon and Daeron departed, their faces grave and thoughtful for this could only concern the matter of the succession. I was left to attend to the more prosaic matter of organising the accommodation for my men and companions, and when all was done I took advantage of my unexpected hour of liberty and made my way down to the library.

I found the door unlocked and it was a blessing to find myself once again in the familiar dusty gloom among those high shelves containing so many ancient marvels. To my surprise it seemed that the place had not been completely neglected, for it was clear that someone had been tending to the placer and there was a new air of quiet order there that had I had not noticed before. It gave me a pang of pleasure to know that others might still love that place as well as I, whoever they might be. I spent a quiet hour looking at some of my favourite tomes before returning by a circuitous route to the rooms we had been allocated. There I found Cenric, now elevated to the rank of captain and like me excluded from what ever discussions his master had been called away to and passing the time idly. So another joyful reunion took place, and I was very glad to see him, for not only had he been a staunch friend of my father’s while he had lived, but he had also looked after me and trained me well when I was a boy. So few remained that I had known from that time, so it was especially sweet for me to hear his news and speak of and remember the times we had lived through together. He too was pleased that I had finally been avenged against Fodric, but listened with sorrow to my account of the siege of Northford, the burning of the town and our eventual abandonment of it. He thought no good would come of the Hillmen‘s occupation, though he was one himself and he spoke with contempt when Brodir was mentioned, as one who would betray his mother for the right price. He urged me to return south with them when all was done, and I told him I would like nothing more, but as ever duty prevented me from doing so. “And a woman?” he asked, perceptive as ever, grinning. “ Perhaps!” I replied, but we not speak further of it.

The Lords Daeron and Turchon returned to our rooms at dusk in sombre mood. Barachon had indeed called a council to discuss the matter of the succession, and to my surprise he had proposed that due to the exceptional circumstances the precedent of the Numenorean tradition be followed and Elien, who had not been present during the discussion, be crowned queen. However there had been much opposition to this, principally from Brodir and his advisors, who had said that such a move ran counter to all their traditions and they could not submit to the rule of a woman, however noble her blood. So Barachon had instead proposed that Berthedir, through dint of his lineage and also his marriage to the daughter of the deceased king assume the crown in her place. Once again there was much dissention at this suggestion, and again the Hillmen were most vocal in their opposition, saying they could not submit to the rule of one who had perpetrated grave acts against their people. Turchon had also raised an objection at this point, stating that if lineage were to be used as a measure of eligibility then surely Lord Daeron of Watersmeet was equally if not more fitted for kingship than Lord Berthedir. Furthermore, he was one who had shown himself to be prudent and wise, words which were seen by many as a slight on his rival. Some of the more learned in these matters who were present agreed regarding the issue of lineage and there was further lively discussion on the matter, but in the end no agreement could be reached and Brodir announced loudly that he would play no further part in the proceedings before leading his contingent from the hall. Afterwards the debate had continued for a short time without resolution, for Barachon naturally continued to argue for Berthedir whilst a considerable number of others, mainly those with lands and holdings outside Lastbridge, had gathered together in their support for Daeron. 

Daeron himself professed himself surprised and dismayed at this turn of events. “I did not come here today with any design on the throne of Rhudaur for myself, for my claim is of the weakest nature, and I do not desire it. But should events unfold in such a way that my taking this burden would save all our peoples from uncertainty and further bloodshed then I would do so. Perhaps I should seek out Brodir and speak to him to know his mind on the matter, for I do not think that any king of Rhudaur can rule without the support of the Hillmen. We too were at Greenhow, but it is well known that the Companies from the Northford garrison took no part in the sack of the town, and indeed made representations about what had taken place to Lord Berthedir. Esteldir, you travelled from Bearcliffe with the Chieftain and may know something of the man, how do you think he will be minded on the matter?” I looked upon my old friend, and knew his words to be sincere. I was not surprised that others had flocked to his cause even though it was one he had not sought for himself, for despite this I could see that he might be well fitted for the role. But I could not give him the assurances he sought from me. “Many years ago before we marched to High Burgh you told me that you feared that too heavy a hand in reply to the rebellion of the Hillmen risked driving them into the arms of our enemy. It seems that your fears have been realised, for when I was at Amon Sul Prince Argeleb told me that they had seen evidence in the seeing stone of commerce between the Hillmen and Angmar and many comings and goings across the Hoarwell at Northford. I fear that whatever Brodir might say or agree to if you spoke to him would not be honoured once he returned to High Burgh”. At this a look of grave concern clouded his handsome face, and he repeatedly clasped and unclasped his hands, something I had often seen him do in the past when he was deeply troubled. “It is strange indded that you mention Arthedain, since I have learned that it is only a few days since that messengers from that very Kingdom arrived at the West Gate here under a flag of parley and handed over what they said was a message of utmost importance for the King. They did not seem to know he was close to death, and I do not know to whom the message was finally delivered or what its content was”. I suspected that I did know however, and told him. “The Prince Of Arthedain has been true to his word then, but it will not be good news that was brought to our door. As part of the treaty we struck he agreed to send warning of any imminent danger that they might have seen in the stone. Our Kingdom is in great peril”.


	91. Chapter 91

A silence fell over all those present in the room, for it now seemed clear to most from whence the main danger came, and whose hand was at work in this matter. For almost seven years now our borders had been relatively untroubled by orc or northman, but it was inconceivable that we had made any kind of decisive blow against Angmar even with the heavy defeat that was inflicted on his forces at Northford. The supposed peace with the Hillmen that had followed under a usurper Chieftain had come all too easily in hindsight and at little cost, and yet none had apparently chosen to question this. The garrison in High Burgh had been withdrawn around the same time we had abandoned Northford, and if indeed the Hillmen were now in league with Angmar then we would have little warning of any force sent down the valleys of the Hoarwell or White River. Turchon had been listening to the discussion but looked troubled and shook his head. “As had already been said you have only the word of the Prince of a land that bears us no love and seeks dominion over us that this is the case as evidence in this matter, the rest is merely speculation made to fit the facts of the matter. I have known Brodir for many years and in all my dealings with him he has been a proud but honourable man, and I find it difficult to believe that he is capable of the treachery he stands accused of”. Daeron suddenly spoke up. “Be that as it may, if things are indeed as they seem then finding a new king who will meet the approval of the Hillmen would be a futile gesture, for they are bound to turn on us sooner or later anyway. I must away and find Berthedir and know his mind on all these matters, for unpalatable as it may be the best course for all might be to unite behind his claim and weather the coming storm together”. 

He departed the chamber, and filled with confusion and dismay at this sudden turn of events I decided that I needed to find a quiet place alone to gather my thoughts, and donning a cloak and taking a small lantern from the table made my excuses and followed him out of the door and returned to the library. I did not meet anyone on my way there, but when I arrived at the door I noticed it had been left slightly ajar, and there was a hint of flickering candlelight beyond. Suddenly filled with apprehension and holding my breath, I eased the door open just enough to admit me and passed through, closing it silently behind me. Leaving my lantern on a shelf near the door I crept forward into the shadow, curious and half hopeful as to who else I might find in this hallowed place so late in the evening. I reached the end of a row of shelves and saw a figure sat at one of the reading tables, illuminated by a single dancing candle flame and completely absorbed in what she was reading. I knew now how Beren must have felt when he first beheld Luthien, for it was none other than Idhrethil seated there, in a plain roughspun dress with her dark hair tumbling loose onto her shoulders. Her face was pale and more lined than I remembered it, but the eyes and mouth were still the same and I was overcome with love and desire for her. I stepped quietly into the light and spoke her name, and she started and rose to her feet with a look of surprise and joy on her beautiful face. “Oh my love, how my heart has longed for this moment! I knew not whether you were come to Lastbridge for the burial, but it is here that I come for solace and quiet, and I have always hoped that one day you would come back here too”. With that we fell together, hungrily and desperately, and for a short while we were all there was in the world for each other and for a short while all our cares were forgotten. 

We lay together for a long time in that beautiful and ancient place, wrapped in my cloak, blissfully happy, whispering the sweet words of lovers to each other. All too soon however it was time to part, for she did not want to be missed and raise suspicion, and as we dressed she spoke to me of the bleakness of her life now as Belegon’s wife. He treated her with contempt, often struck her if she displeased him, and not only that but was wont to lie with younger women, serving girls and tavern wenches, and then boast of it to her face and name her a hag. Her softly spoken words were like daggers to my heart, and as I held her close to me again before we parted I knew I had to make an end of it and spoke to her, my voice was thick with emotion. “My love, this cannot continue, for either of us. For it seems Berthedir is likely to become king and the Hillmen will reject his rule and bring war down upon us all as a result. I owe loyalty to neither party, let us flee west as soon as it can be arranged, for I have the favour of the Prince of Arthedain and perhaps the dream we once shared of a new life there can be made real after all?”. She looked into my eyes, deadly serious. “You would do this for me?” she asked and I nodded. “Yes I would, and I will. I will make arrangements and purchase a good horse and supplies for the journey and we will flee by the light of the next full moon. You will have to find a pretext to go down into the City that evening but I will do the rest. If we are unable to speak again before that time then meet me at the old bridge at sunset”. She nodded, and then we kissed softly and she departed. I reeled at the import of what I had just promised to do, but the more I thought about it the stronger my resolve became to see it through. I had given myself less than two weeks to arrange matters and overcome numerous obstacles that lay in my path, and then I would leave Rhudaur and everything and everyone I knew for ever. The thought thrilled and horrified me in equal measure, and I knew only too well what the price of failure and discovery would be. But my love for Idhrethil surpassed all else and I knew I could do what was needed.

The day of the King Elion’s burial dawned bright and mild, but the mood as I sat with my companions eating breakfast was in stark contrast to the pleasant weather outside the window. I had not been there when Daeron had returned from his meeting with Berthedir the previous night but it appeared that he and Turchon were no longer on speaking terms. Nor was I in any mood for conversation, for the certainty I had felt the previous night had evaporated with the dawn, and my feelings were now full of doubt and confusion, torn between my loyalty to my friends and the woman I loved. I could scarce look them in the eye knowing what I had vowed to do just a few days hence, but they were so preoccupied that they did not appear to notice my strange mood. In the end I spoke up and asked Daeron what had happened and he frowned and paused as if fearing the response his words would receive. “I have decided not to pursue my claim to the throne of Rhudaur, such that it was, and pledge my allegiance to Berthedir‘s claim on the throne. These are dangerous times and the Dunedain of this realm cannot afford to be divided and at odds amongst themselves when a greater threat faces us all”. I was aghast and filled with dismay at this change of heart, and one glance at Turchon’s expression confirmed that he was of a similar mind. I leapt to my feet. “How can you possibly support Berthedir?” I exclaimed “the man is a cruel heartless coward who will lead us all to ruin. Have you taken leave of your senses?” Daeron looked furious at my outburst, and it was a shock to me for we as we had never exchanged angry words before, and he too rose from the table. “If it were anyone other than you speaking to me thus then I would punish them for their rash and disrespectful words, do not forget who you are and to whom you speak! Yet I do not expect you, one without home or kin to understand what is truly at stake here, or that sometimes unpleasant choices have to be made in order to keep our loved ones the safe. I have three children in Watersmeet, and another on the way, and continuing any claim for the throne for myself will only cause division and strife amongst our people and place their futures in jeopardy”. I wondered at his words, for it seemed I no longer knew him and that his new life had wrought a great change in him. “Forgive me” I replied “but I believe your course of action will doom us all”. With that turned and left the room, and Turchon followed me out.

At noon, dressed in our best gear we gathered in the great hall where King Elion lay on a bier, his body shrouded and laid out with his sword and crown. Eventually a silence fell on the place and Princess Elien, accompanied by Lord Berthedir and others of high rank entered just as they had for the feast a few weeks since. As before towards the rear came Idhrethil alongside Belegon, beautifully clothed in a sombre dress and jewels. I felt a stab of anguish and love too when I saw her, remembering what had passed between us the previous night, but I did not attempt to catch her eye and she kept hers downcast and to the front in any case. Bearers took up the bier, a herald called on us to follow the King to his final resting place and the procession moved off slowly out of the main doors and down through the citadel to the gatehouse and the great courtyard. beyond. There we were arranged in some sort of order of precedence, with the Chieftain of the Hillmen following the Princess’s retinue and various lords and captains behind his party. I was close to the front of this latter grouping by dint of my attending on Turchon, for although he was not high in the favour of those in Lastbridge he was still Lord of one of the largest towns in the wider Kingdom. Close by us walked Daeron and Cenric, but the former did not acknowledge our presence. Out in the great cobbled yard an honour guard were waiting and they took the head of the column as we began the descent into the town. At the bottom of the hill crowds of townsfolk watched in silence as we passed along the road, heading eastward toward the burial grounds. As we marched slowly I thought sadly of the last time I had made that same journey with Angon, and the thought of it made my growing hatred for Barachon and Berthedir and their kind burn all the stronger.

The burial grounds stood beneath tall forested crags and it was in tombs at the feet of these that the kings of Rhudaur had traditionally been laid to rest. The great doors in the hillside that led into the chambers within had been thrown open and the procession halted before them. We gathered around the bier in there and it was Berthedir, in a clear signal of his intent to succeed the old king who spoke the traditional words of departure. Afterwards torches were lit and the bier was taken within accompanied by the Princess and those who had been closest to him, Berthedir and Barachon among them, but also Idhrethil. She entered the tomb arm in arm with the Princess, who was by now in some distress, and I realised it was not just I who would have to betray my friends and abandon those I loved when we fled westward.


	92. Chapter 92

Eventually the burial party and the bearers emerged from the tomb, the great doors were swung shut and the procession began the march back to the Citadel. Crowds still lined the route but now when the Chieftain of the Hillmen passed with his retinue there was scattered applause and people shouted their approval. Whether Berthedir noted this or not I do not know, but it would not have been the first time he had been upstaged by a leader of the Hillmen. On our return to the Fortress we returned to the great hall where the feast was to be held in honour of the old King and this time I found myself seated with Turchon close to the front of the hall and the high table. There the Princess and her party were seated somewhat uneasily alongside the Chieftain of the Hillmen and his closest attendants. Belegon and Idhrethil were seated at our end of the table but as before we consciously avoided making eye contact or even looking in each others direction, for we both knew that to arouse even the slightest suspicion of any mutual feeling between us would court disaster. The food at this feast turned out to be quite acceptable, and in addition the stone jug of ale on the table was regularly replenished. After we had eaten and drunk our fill it was time for the eulogies to be heard, and I listened with interest as first Barachon and then various other aged lords and former captains spoke of the man Elion son of Eldaer had once been before age and chronic malady laid him low. As ever in these matters I suspected that not all of what was said was sincerely meant but was rather what those assembled expected to hear. I remembered the sick old man telling me he was surrounded by plotters and schemers and wondered what it must be like to spend a whole life surrounded by such people, where nobody could truly be trusted. It was a sad thought, and I did feel some sympathy for the man who had treated me kindly and who I could not forget had spoken for me at a difficult moment, but his reign had undeniably been marked by complacency and decline, and history might well judge him harshly.

Next to rise to his feet was Berthedir, and he too spoke in glowing terms of a man I could hardly recognise. It was clear Turchon, seated at my side, was of a similar opinion, and at one point he slammed his tankard rather too hard down on the table in disgust, attracting glances from those seated around us. Then to my surprise and dismay, for it would not normally have been deemed appropriate to do so at the burial feast, he began to speak of his own succession to the throne. He announced proudly that his claim had been accepted by all rival parties and that he was ready to accept the crown and succeed Elion as King of Rhudaur. The room erupted with cheering and chants of “Berthedir King, Berthedir King” but I could not help notice a look of shock and anguish on the face of the Princess as he stood by her side receiving the approbation of those in the hall. Then the noise died down and silence returned , and he prepared to continue. However it was Brodir, Chieftain of the Hillmen who rose to his feet and spoke next. “Princess Elien, we should be here today to remember your father and honour him, the debate over who shall follow him belongs to another day. But your husband has given me no choice but to reply with this declaration. I hereby state that my people will never acknowledge him as their King, and if he is crowned such then I say that the old oaths of loyalty and brotherhood that have bound our peoples together for so long will be undone. I urge you to reconsider this choice”. There was uproar, and Brodir and his men rose from their seats and left the hall with insults ringing in their ears, but they were not alone for Turchon the brave old fool also rose along with a few others who had been of like mind on the matter and followed. I was proud that he had made a stand and I was pleased to follow him, but I was also secretly dismayed at my premature exit from the feast. I had naturally hoped that I might go out onto the terrace later on and perhaps have the change to exchange a few more words with Idhrethil, but it was not to be.

There was further disappointment in store for me later on that evening, for Turchon returned from an errand and instructed me to make preparations at once for our departure and return to Bearcliffe the following day. I had not foreseen this eventuality and it was a stab to the heart, for I had pictured that we would remain where we were until the matter of the succession and crowning had been settled. This was going to complicate matters greatly, for unless I could find some pretext to return south quickly I would have no choice but to desert and take my chances as a fugitive. I also knew it would grieve me sorely to abandon Turchon when he was most likely to be in need of me. Despite the lateness of the hour I set to the task as I had been bid, and visited my men in the dormitory hall to inform them of the change of plan where the news was greeted with less disappointment than I had expected. Afterwards I returned to the citadel and on the way back to our rooms happened upon Cenric who was returning early from the feast. We greeted each other warmly, and he expressed sadness when I told him that we would be departing on the morrow. I told him that I was sorry that Daeron had chosen to support Berthedir’s claim, but that he seemed a very changed man. “The cares of lordship and his love for his family weigh heavily upon him” replied my old friend “but even though he has pledged his loyalty to one who has wronged my people, I must remain loyal to him, for not only did he offer many of us the chance of a new life in the south, but he has been a staunch friend and seen fit to elevate me to a rank few of my people have attained. For as you know I equal you in rank Young Lordling, and who’d have thought that would ever happen? I pray do not judge him too harshly”. And with that we arrived back at our rooms and parted amicably.

Early the following morning we left the citadel and despite the early hour found the great cobbled courtyard already a scene of some considerable activity. The Chieftain and his men were there and I realised that Turchon must have arranged to travel back north with them. He and Turchon greeted each other with courtesy and some warmth and I wondered, not for the first time, whether his opposition to those who ruled in Lastbridge had clouded his judgement, for the enemy of your enemy is not always guaranteed to be your friend. Nonetheless I formed my men up ahead of them as an advance guard and we set off toward the gatehouse passing beneath the great towers that overlooked it. I felt very despondent, for I had been unable to think of any way to warn Idhrethil of my departure or assure her that I still intended to return to carry out our planned escape a week hence. All she would know was that I had suddenly marched off back to Bearcliffe, and I prayed that she would not assume that my words had been hollow, made hastily in a moment of passion and then quickly repented. I was tormented by so much uncertainty, but knew from long experience that at least the march ahead would give me time enough to think and plot a new course of action.

We began the steep descent towards the town that ran between the imposing walls of the fortress. In the distance ahead of us another company marched, and I thought it curious that there were so many men on the battlements at that hour, ranged on either hand and watching from above as we approached. A feeling of unease suddenly gripped me, the same feeling I had felt a thousand times fighting orcs in the forests of the north when I suspected we were walking into an ambush. I cursed myself silently for a fool, then watched with some surprise as the men ahead of us halted and turned to face us which was very strange and raised my suspicions further. I was just about to call a halt when there was a cry from above and then the air was suddenly filled with the terrifying sound of arrows whistling through the air and striking stonework. There were screams, and men running, and I instantly followed. One of the Hillmen stumbled across my path and then fell to the ground with a thud, a shaft buried deep in the small of his back. I threw myself tight against the wall on the far side of the road and looked out on a scene of carnage, with men dead and dying across the way, their blood pooling and trickling between the cobbles. Then suddenly there was silence again and the firing stopped. I saw that all but one of my own men were unscathed, standing dazed and barely able to take in what had just befallen them. However the Hillmen all lay dead or dying, Brodir among them, and I saw that Turchon who had been walking at his side when the attack began had also been slain. I strode over quickly to where he lay, his body lifeless and contorted and raised face to those above on the battlements in a rage. “What is the meaning of this?” I cried “Are Lords of the realm to be slaughtered like dogs in the street? What is the meaning of this outrage?” But I received no reply, and the soldiers reached us, their weapons drawn, and were joined by others coming down from the gatehouse until we found ourselves surrounded. I recognised the man in command as on of Belegon’s . “Silence” he called gruffly “lay down your arms all of you, and you will not be harmed. You men, return to the halls and await further orders. You however Captain are off to the dungeons”. I started at this and thought hard about drawing my sword and making an end of it then and there, but I knew my men would join me in the fight and I did not wish to have their needless deaths on my hands as well. Instead I mastered myself, slowly unbuckled my sword belt and let it fall to the floor. I was then seized roughly and taken down to the dungeons below the citadel where my fine gear and coin were taken from me. Once again I found myself alone in a dark stinking pit. I could still barely take in what I had just witnessed, or comprehend just how far all my plans and hopes had now unravelled, for I knew well that few who entered this terrible place ever left it alive. I lay in the stinking darkness and in the end my strength failed me and sobbed uncontrollably for a while, weeping for myself, my slain friend Turchon and for the storm that would now surely be unleashed on all of us as a result of this terrible crime.


	93. Chapter 93

I remained in that terrible place for the next five days watching the weak daylight come and go in a small opening high in the wall above, and I knew from the whispered tales that this time that there would be little chance of escape from the fate that awaited me. However contrary to my initial expectations I was fed a little poor fare every day and given water to drink, so when the guards finally came for me I was still able to stand and walk out of the cell unaided, blinking in the sudden lamplight. I was brought up into the main part of the citadel and soon realised where we were headed, and a few minutes later I found myself before Belegon and his men, who were crowded into the room in a scene of some disorder. Those within the room fell silent as I entered flanked by guards, with bare feet and dressed only in my breeches and undershirt. Belegon smirked when he saw me but I held his gaze levelly as I approached and stood before him. “Ah, the Half Pig once again” he began, to some laughter from those around him. I replied “I, Esteldir, son of Galdirion of Northford ask by what cause am I made prisoner here?” His smirk turned to a scowl in an instant. “By many causes, and I will list them… the murder of Fodric, an honourable man, consorting with traitors and enemies of our realm, your still unexplained disappearance from High Burgh, theft, insubordination and worst of all being a jumped up half pig”. There was more laughter from the onlookers. “More than enough to cost you your neck, and I would gladly have taken it, but you can wield a blade and we have need of all the trained men we can get, even rats from the dungeons. You are hereby stripped of all rank and status and all your goods and possessions are confiscated. You will go into battle as a common soldier and with any luck die for your king among the rabble to make amends for your many faults against him”. 

The full import of his words took a moment to sink in, but then my heart was filled with despair. In truth cared not overmuch for rank or status, but without my coin I knew would not be able to buy a horse or supplies for the escape, and it also meant that I would also lose my family’s papers, the last strand that bound me to their past. I regret it now, but this was the latest and most hardest blow of too that I had already had to bear, and tears sprang to my eyes even in that place before my foes. I am ashamed to say that I abased myself and pleaded for the return of those papers, though they were of little or no value, and of course my pleas were met with nothing but amusement and derision. I left the room utterly humiliated and shortly afterwards found myself out in the courtyard in a queue with a poor and unlikely looking group of wretches who were being issued with army clothing and gear. I said nothing as I was handed a worn pair of boots, a leather breastplate and a dented helm along with a cloak and spare clothes. Dead men’s stuff, I thought to myself. The sword I was given was short, blunt and notched, not at all like the finely balanced blades I had become used to, but I knew it would have to serve until I could lay my hands on better. 

The great courtyard was bustling with activity and I could not help but notice the smoke of what must have been unusually large fires down in the town wafting into the clear blue sky beyond the walls. We were lined up and made to stand to attention and then an ugly looking sergeant with the build of an ox appeared. He looked us up and down and spat on the floor in front of our feet. “Pah, what a rabble. I am Sergeant Brandor, and you will do exactly as I tell you or I’ll have your filthy necks. Do I make myself clear? Now get your lousy hides over to the halls for a feed and a sleep, because it’ll be one of the last for most of you. What are you looking at pretty boy?” I realised with a start that he was addressing me. “What were you in the dungeon for then my lad? And what’s your name? I can see I’m going to have to keep an eye on you”. I thought to myself that I shared that sentiment, for I knew his type only too well, but instead replied as mildly as I could. “I am Nindir, and I lay with the wife of another man. I meant no offence to you Sergeant Brandor”. I did my best to appear worried and downcast, which was not difficult in the circumstances, and he regarded me with renewed contempt. “A pity you’re lily livered with a build like that, you might have made a decent soldier otherwise”. I did not reply, and he soon turned his venom on another of our unfortunate company. Afterwards we made our way into the dormitory halls, which were alive with activity and joined another queue for some food. This turned out not to be greatly better or much more abundant than I the fare we had received in the dungeon, and once we had eaten we were directed to a nearby dormitory, which was already crowded, and did our best to find spaces to settle down. The men there were a Lastbridge company as far as I could tell, and not at all pleased when they saw the quality of the replacements they had been sent. I hoped I would not meet anyone who knew me and be recognised, but my new beard and much reduced status seemed to help a good deal in that respect.

I finally found some space in a corner and was joined by one my fellows, a skinny wretch with a big nervous smile who put me very much in mind of my long lost friend Radulf. Because of this resemblance my heart softened and I returned his smile. “What is your name?” I asked him “and what’s your story?” He looked downcast. “I am Tithen, and I stole some bread from a baker’s shop because I was hungry and a soldier caught me.” I noticed a northern lilt to his speech and it turned out upon further questioning that his father had been in the Northford garrison and his mother had brought him and his siblings south to make a new life for themselves after his death. But like so many others they had found nothing but want and hardship awaiting them, it was a sad but all too familiar tale. I doubted if he was actually old enough to bear arms and he looked barely strong enough to swing a sword or carry a shield. The once proud army of Rhudaur had fallen far indeed if it was forced to take men such as he to fight for it. I feared he might quickly become the butt of unkind words and acts from the others, for it is often the way with the weak, and I decided I would do what I could to aid him. He asked me if I had ever been a soldier myself, and I told him that I had, and the poor wretch told me he was very grateful to have found a friend. But in truth so was I.

Before we settled down for the night I tried to learn from the others what had been happening during the time I had spent in the dungeons. It seemed that Berthedir had wasted no time in taking the crown, but news of Brodir’s murder, whilst supposedly resisting arrest for a well founded charge of treason, had reached the general population, and as a result the new King was not popular amongst many of his subjects. There had been some scenes of violent unrest on the streets of Lastbridge, and the soldiers of the company we had been attached to played a part in restoring order the previous night. The coronation ceremony had been somewhat furtive as a result of the unrest, with little in the way of pomp or ceremony, and the new king had remained within the walls of the Citadel rather than going abroad and meeting his new subjects as had been customary in the past. He now hoped to catch the Hillmen leaderless and put them in their place, so we were just about to march off northward under the command of Belegon, the new Lord of Bearcliffe. This last piece of news did not entirely surprise me, but I was not convinced at all that anything other than a bad end now awaited there as a result. I strongly suspected that we would find the Hillmen neither leaderless or cowering timidly behind the walls of High Burgh.

After a long and chaotic period of preparation the following morning in the great yard the last army to march forth in the name of a Dunedain king in Rhudaur set off from the citadel. It was nearly midsummer, but the fine weather of the previous days had been replaced overnight by unseasonal cold and a lowering sky overhead promising rain. By the time our company finally began to move off the downpour began and our passage through the streets of Lastbridge, watched in silence by many hostile bystanders, became a miserable affair. The boots I had been issued with leaked and I knew it would not be long before I would find myself in further discomfort. We did not cover many leagues before we halted that first day, but the halt brought little respite. We were still in populated lands, so there was little kindling or firewood to be found close at hand to make fires with and the rations that were doled out to us were once again meagre and unsatisfactory. Worse still I had affected to be naïve and nervous so as not to draw any attention to myself, and as a result some of the others, especially those who had been in the dungeons with us, provoked and mocked Tithen and I continually. Sergeant Brandor saw all, but did nothing but watch in sly amusement, even joining in at times. I would never have tolerated such behaviour from men under my command, and would have disciplined anyone of rank who did not act to stop it most severely. It was a sign to me of how low we had fallen, and it took great self control for me not to react and strike down our tormentors.

I had feared it would become another march like the one to Amon Sul, but the season was in our favour and in the morning we awoke to a clear sky and the full radiance of the sun which soon helped to dry and revive us. We resumed the march in somewhat better spirits and the second day passed uneventfully, though the marching was once again slow and tedious with many unscheduled halts. I knew this meant that we would not make Bearcliffe that night and would have another night in the open to look forward to, no doubt on even shorter rations. I was proved right, for when we were about half a day’s normal march from our destination the column halted yet again and did not move off for some considerable time. Eventually we discovered the reason for the delay, for there were a number of people on the road who had flown south clutching bundles of possessions or carrying children. I knew at once what this must mean for I recognised only too easily the haunted look of those who had barely escaped with their lives. They were mostly dressed in good clothes, and as we passed them they told us what had befallen them, speaking of mobs in the streets looting and burning as they went and the soldiers of the garrison unable to resist them. Then early that morning after a night of terrifying disorder horns were heard in the valley and a great host came down out of the hills. The mob opened the gates of the town to admit them and any of the garrison who did not immediately surrender were put to the sword along with any Dunedain of wealth or rank who could be found. The cry had gone up that the true and rightful king of all of the people of Rhudaur was come to claim his throne at last. This caused some bemusement amongst those around me, for they wondered who this new claimant might possibly be when the latest Chieftain of the Hillmen had been done to death in Lastbridge not six days since. But I suspected I knew the answer to their question, that Ulfred son of Ulfraer, true heir to that title was returned from his exile in the wild, and if this was so then he would be hungry for vengeance.


	94. Chapter 94

We camped on farmland near the river that night, and it would have been a pleasant place to spend a night under the stars in any other circumstances. Our ragged squad made themselves comfortable in the orchard and we listened with resignation as the farmer pleaded in vain as all his livestock were slaughtered, no doubt for the consumption of the Captains and men of rank, for I did not expect that we would get any. At least, I thought sourly to myself, they did not slaughter the farmer too this time. Eventually, after what seemed an interminable wait one of the quartermaster’s carts made an appearance and we formed the usual queue to receive our evening rations. I was minded to give poor Tithen most of mine for the poor thing already appeared already to be at the end of his strength. I had carried his cloak and some of his gear for him during that day‘s march, but Brandor had seen him undoing his sword belt in order to pass that over too and forbidden him to remove it. He said little now but his eyes were full of pathetic gratitude. 

We received our miserable fare, a small piece of hard bread, some dried meat and a cup of watery ale, and tried to slink off to a quiet corner under the trees where we would consume them in peace. Unfortunately some of our brothers had others ideas, and the biggest oaf among them, a man of great strength but little intellect, of the sort who had served Fodric, stepped forward and demanded that we hand over our rations to him and his companions. I pleaded weakly for mercy, that they must be able to see that Tithen was almost spent and to take mine but not his if they must, but they would not hear of it. Once again I could see the sergeant watching with sly amusement and I immediately turned to him for help, appealing to him to prevent this breach of discipline. However he merely smiled and replied “sort it out amongst yourselves pretty boy” and turned away to carry on eating his own rather larger portion. Hearing this the oaf snatched my rations out of my hand and his fellows roared with laughter. My patience, worn thin by my own acute hunger finally ran out and in a flash the tip of my blunt but still effective blade was pressing into his neck and his eyes widened in sudden fear, and I ordered him sternly to return my rations before I did him some harm. He complied, backing off with eyes full of hatred while the onlookers laughed and jeered. I sheathed my sword, picked up my meal and turned to walk away, but a sudden collective intake of breath from the audience told me he was not done with me yet. With a yell he came at me with his sword overhead and swung a blow that might have cut me in two had I not been expecting it, and the blade bit into the soil as I side stepped it. 

There was a roar of approval from the growing audience, for this was good sport indeed to amuse them. I drew my own blade now and waited for him to come again, and once again he was all fury and no skill and I was easily able to avoid his wild slashing. This only increased his rage and made him more careless and I could easily have got through his guard and killed him if I had chosen to, but knew this would by necessity be a last resort on my part. Instead I continued to dodge his blows to the great amusement of those watching, and things might have run their course eventually if one of them had not decided to enliven proceedings further by pushing me in the back and knocking me off balance just as I was avoiding another wild swing. Fortune was with me however, for it was only the the tip of his blade that caught me across the forehead, cutting me. I stumbled and my vision was temporarily impaired by blood running from the cut and he almost had me again. I wiped my brow, recovered my balance and decided I would have to finish him after all, for I could feel blood running down my forehead, I was growing tired, and I could be sure than someone else would repeat the attempt to discomfit me. The crowd were baying like dogs at the sight of my wound, and I could see more men approaching through the trees, drawn by the noise. The oaf came again, leering now, clearly thinking that I was beaten, and I got ready to strike a mortal wound in the ribs when he dropped his cover for his next attack. But the blow never came, suddenly there was a commotion amongst the onlookers who parted to let the Company’s furious rat faced lieutenant into the ring, who roared for silence and a halt to proceedings, and was granted it. My adversary and I stood facing each other, panting and drenched in sweat. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, and I saw my chance and took it, resuming my act as the somewhat piteous Nindir. “Forgive me, but this man took my ration and my friend’s and wouldn’t give it us back, and Sergeant Brandor said I had to sort it out not him, so I drew my sword on him and made him give it me back and he did and that would have been the end of it. But then he attacked me and he would have killed me if you hadn’t come just now”. I sank to my knees for good effect, and the blood oozing from my wound added colour to the picture. He looked at me with utter disdain on his face, but did appear to have decided to take my part in the matter, for he promptly ordered the oaf to be flogged and demanded that Brandor accompany him at once to the captain to answer for his actions. A stern lecture to us all about discipline and morale followed, along with an assurance that if we wanted fighting and blood we would get plenty enough of them in the morning. Then he was gone, and those around and about me suddenly lost interest in the proceedings and quickly found other things to occupy their attention.

I decided to go down to the river to wash my wound, and made my way through the camp to the water’s edge where I stripped to my waist and found a relatively safe place to enter the water. As ever for a river that rose in the mountains it was bitterly cold despite the season and I winced as I entered it. But it felt good to wash away the dirt and blood again as I had often done before many leagues further upstream in what now felt like what had been another life. Here though the flood was not youthful and broken into a hundred mild courses by the stony shoals of the ford, but wide, fast paced and powerful, and even in the sheltered eddy where I stood I felt the mighty pull of the main stream that could easily take the strongest of swimmers away to their death. The river ran on, grey and sinuous and I knew that the waters that I bathed in now would soon be passing under the ancient stone arches of the old bridge at Lastbridge. I sighed when I thought that Idhrethil might soon be standing upon it and waiting for me, and the thought broke my heart. The sun was almost set now, and a waxing moon already stood mocking my misfortune in the sky to the south. In two days time it would be full, and I could see no way of being able to fulfil my part of the bargain even if I did survive the battle that would undoubtedly follow the next day. I grew cold and climbed out of the water, shivering, and after drying myself as best I could let the mild night air finish the job while I hungrily consumed what little of my ration I had been able to rescue from the fray. There were more men camped here down near the water but they paid me little heed, so I laid myself out on the grass and lay for a while looking up at the fiery glow of the countless stars that were emerging overhead. The sight of them brought me no comfort at that moment however, and I soon dressed and returned to the orchard, concerned that it might be thought that I had deserted if I remained absent for too long.

Sergeant Brandor was not there when I returned, and I did not see him again, for the following morning another man from the company was given a promotion and put in charge of our squad. The other absentee was Tithen, but I did not remark on it, and when I was asked where he was I was able to answer truthfully that the last time I had seen him had been before I was attacked. I could only think that he had taken advantage of the disturbance to make his own escape, for the pickets nearby had no doubt left their stations to watch the melee and allowed him to slip away easily into the wild. No doubt with several men’s ration’s in his scrip if I knew his sort, I thought smiling, and wished him good fortune wherever he might be. Others of the same mind were not so lucky and about a dozen wretches were apprehended trying to clear the camp and head southward during the night, including one of the men who had come out of the dungeons with us. We were ordered to form up and watch while they were executed one by one as an example and warning to the rest of us. Belegon was there to pronounce sentence on them, and to my dismay Daeron was at his side, looking splendid on horseback, though I was too far away to read his expression or to risk being recognised by him. I wondered if Cenric was there too, but could not see him, and thought that it would be a bitter thing to have brought him north to do battle with his own kin. When all was done the bodies were left lying where they had fallen at the roadside, first of the many who would perish that day, and we moved off northward again, .

It had been an eve of battle unlike any I had known before, for now I was alone and friendless with none to comfort or command and it brought home to me how important the bonds of love and friendship are to us when we find ourselve in desperate straights. I had not slept well and was now marching to battle hungry, weary and full of fear at the thought of what lay ahead. I had no desire for battle nor any belief in what we fought for, and I worse still now felt the absence of my fine plate keenly, for it would turn a glancing blow from a blade or slow a falling arrowhead in a way that the leather breastplate I was wearing could never do. Those around me mostly kept their own counsel and many of them were visibly frightened, expecting the worst every time the column halted. It was a perfect summer’s day, but none of us took any pleasure from it, and after a while the sun climbed further into the sky and added heat and thirst to our woes.

An hour or so before noon we heard the sound of many horns blowing ahead of us. I could not tell whether they were ours or those of our foe, but they precipitated a flurry of activity as Lord Belegon began to marshall his forces in readiness to face those who awaited us just ahead. There was a good deal of jostling and confusion as orders were barked out but eventually we found ourselves at the front and in the centre of the host, just as I had feared where the press would be fiercest and most deadly.


	95. Chapter 95

We faced the Chieftain’s army across open meadowlands, with the river on our left hand and the wooded hills that climbed away eastward to the Shaws on our right. In the middle distance beyond the enemy host the bear’s crag could be seen, shrunken by the distance, a familiar landmark and a destination we were now unlikely to attain. I thought sourly to myself that I had never yet fought in a battle where the numbers were even or in our favour and so it seemed again today. Belegon had brought about four thousand northward up the road from Lastbridge and by my estimation the strength of the Hillmen’s host was at least half that again. Since neither side had the advantage of surprise or the lie of the land in their favour I thought it likely that those superior numbers would tell. Our captains went back and forth amongst us, exhorting us to fight in the usual manner, but the words they uttered seemed empty and foolish to me now, for I faced this battle with only one thought, and that was to somehow survive it. The new King had chosen not to lead his own men but remain behind in Lastbridge and it was Belegon who rode along the line on a large horse that was already soaked in sweat, his face a mask, saying nothing as he went past us. His silence was matched by that of the men around me and I wondered if he already knew the day was lost, for unlike the host we had faced at Greenhow these Hillmen appeared to be disciplined and well ordered, their ranks neat and well formed up as they made their own preparations for what was about to follow. 

That day there was no preamble or parley for across the meadows a great roar went up and the whole host began to move towards us as one. It all seemed to me to be happening too quickly, and moments later the cry went up for us to advance in turn. We pressed forward, marching forward in close formation, hunched over behind our shields, swords and spears at the ready. As we closed on the Hillmen our archers halted behind us and began to fire volleys of arrows over our heads towards their ranks, and the air was once again full of the deadly whine and rattle of arrows. This time however our foe had an answer of their own, for no sooner had our archers loosed those of the enemy sent their reply arcing into the clear blue sky. This too was something new and terrible, for the Hillmen had never fought with any more than a small number of bowmen, mostly hunters from of the Shaws.

Their arrows fell upon us like rain and exacted a terrible toll. Men began to fall all around me and the air was soon full of the screams of the wounded and dying. I am not ashamed to say that at that moment that my courage deserted me, for the random death dealt from above by an arrowhead was the one thing that I had always feared the most in battle. Somehow I was spared again that day, but the downpour was so intense and our casualties soon so great that our advance began to falter, and we were only driven on by the weight of numbers pressing behind us. Then as swiftly as it had begun the deadly rain of arrows ceased and with a great clash of steel we met the charge of the Hillmen head on in a bloody fight that was as ferocious as any I was ever involved in. They fought like men possessed and with their greater weight of numbers soon began to drive us back. All around me men began to fall back and flee for their lives. I had done what was necessary in the fray to remain alive but had no wish to spend my life for this new King, and at the first opportunity I too turned on my heels and fled the field. The trickle of retreating men quickly began to turn into a torrent as our centre collapsed and the Hillmen pursued us mercilessly at first, driving a wedge clean through our lines and splitting our host in two. Elsewhere on the flanks the rest of the host fought bravely on, but any courage they displayed would now be in vain as the day would soon be lost.

For a while we ran, a great disordered mass of soldiery fleeing back southward along the road in the noonday heat until we could run no more, and once it became clear that we were no longer immediately pursued most fell into a rapid walk. Every now and again a rumour that the Hillmen were upon us again would come down the column, and hot weary men would begin to run again only to find that it was yet another false report. In the end many including myself ceased to heed the panicked cries when they came. I doubted that a disciplined force such as the one we now faced would engage in a wild and disorganised pursuit and leave themselves vulnerable to a counter attack. The new Chieftain had learned well from the defeats of the past and would come south soon enough on his own terms. 

Several hours into the march south we heard the sound of horses and were overtaken by a group of riders who came by us at a trot, but they were few in number and did not speak or acknowledge our presence. They quickly disappeared into the distance leaving a pall of dust in the air behind them and several of those around me cursed them for cowards once they were safely out of earshot for saving their own skins and leaving the rest of us to our fates. Belegon was not amongst them, and I did not see Daeron either. I felt a pang of regret at the thought that he might have been killed and regretted the harsh words we had shared when we had last spoken, but there was nothing to be done now.

Eventually my thirst got the better of me and I left the column and made my way to the river to find some water to ease my terrible thirst and wash away some of the dust and dirt of battle. A sergeant in the group I had been marching with attempted to order me back into line but I disregarded his threats and curses and took myself away from the road towards the river, which was again close by at this point. I found somewhere safe to enter the flood and found sweet relief for a while in the chilly water. As I bathed in the shallows I noticed that there were objects gliding by on the current further out which I took at first to be driftwood, but it soon became apparent that the river was carrying far more grisly flotsam that day. I do not know whether those men had been driven into the water and drowned or been thrown there after death, but they were many of them and the sight of so many filled me with dismay. Suddenly chilled, I quickly left the water, dressed and made my way back through the trees to the road and rejoined the march. As the afternoon waned hunger and weariness began to overcome many and the pace of the march slackened, but we did not dare halt for fear of the pursuit.

The sun eventually began to drop into the west, and beyond the wooded summits of the Shaws a pale moon crept into the evening sky, its silvery disc perfectly round and even, mocking all my vain hopes and plans. Tonight would have been the night that I would have met Idhrethil on the Old Bridge to begin our escape westward if fate had not conspired to ruin my plans. I wondered if she might be standing there at that very moment, hoping against hope that I still lived and that I might somehow have found a way to regain Lastbridge and rejoin her. But it would never be, and the thought of the pain and disappointment she would surely feel when I did not come drew hot tears that stung my cheeks, and I cared little at that moment that any might see them. But yet despite everything I still lived, and for as long as I did hope always remained. That thought gave me new strength to continue, my anguish was gradually replaced by a renewed determination to reach Lastbridge as soon as I could, for I knew that our return would soon be followed by a siege and the chaos and disorder that would ensue would surely present me with opportunities to retrieve the situation. After the sun set the moon rose higher into the sky and began to cast a good light, and for a while I was able to continue, but eventually my weariness did overcome me and I left the road hiding myself in a hollow by the river bank. There I slept deeply for a few hours until the sky began to turn grey in the east and the moon sank beyond the distant hills of Western Rhudaur across the river.

The second day of the retreat was worse if anything than the first, for now we had caught up with many of those who had fled Bearcliffe and there were many townsfolk and villagers on the road. Their plight was if anything more dreadful than our own, and though they begged us for aid as they were overtaken we had naught to give them. I did however take pity on a young woman of my own age who was struggling along with two small children, and though I too was weakened by hunger and my exertions they were not a burden that would trouble me. My offer of assistance was gratefully accepted, and I fell in with the mother, a handsome woman with fair hair. Her name was Lenneth, the widow of a captain who had fallen at Amon Sul and a daughter of one of the noble houses of Bearcliffe. I thought I had seen her before, and certainly knew of her husband and family, but I did not say so, naming myself for my own part as Nindir of Lastbridge once again. The mob had attacked and looted her family’s home in the upper town and she had been forced to flee with little else other than the clothes she stood up in and her poor babes. She had bitter words for the way Lord Turchon and his fine young captain had abandoned them and gone south to Lastbridge to feast and drink instead of remaining where they had been needed. She had already been walking for two days and the children were completely spent, the poor little things lay still and silent in my arms and were barely a burden at all. Assisting Lenneth and her children did slow my progress further but we still made the walls of Lastbridge by nightfall, and entered through the North Gate amongst a great press of hungry and weary folk. The guards there barked out orders for all those returning from the battle to make their way at once to the Fortress and report for further duty, but after we had cleared the gate I disregarded the order and set off with Lenneth and her children in search of the her elder sister’s home. I had rarely seen the streets and squares so crowded, everywhere soldiers and townsfolk came and went whilst others stood in groups watching or engaged in animated discussions. The atmosphere was tense, with fear written upon many faces, and as if somehow sensing this the weather too had grown still and close. No stars shone overhead now and the moon that had mocked me the previous night had earlier disappeared behind a great bank of cloud that had gradually made its way across the sky from the west. We eventually after some searching found the house we sought in the steep winding lanes close by the Fortress where the wealthier townsfolk and merchants lived, and I was able to deliver my charges into the protection of her family. So for a while at least they had shelter and something to eat, but despite also being offered hospitality in gratitude for my deeds I did not tarry there long, telling them I that I had to report for duty at once. My parting from them was full of sadness, and even now it pains me to think of those poor children and the fate that might have befallen them and their mother so soon afterwards.

Despite my words I did not go at once to the Fortress which lay close by, but rather retraced my steps back through the busy streets towards the centre of Lastbridge and the river beyond. In that moonless night the bridge itself was a great gulf of darkness beyond the weak illumination provided by the lanterns on the east bank, but I continued into the obscurity unchallenged, hoping against hope that I might stumble across a cloaked figure waiting for me there. But the bridge was empty and there was nothing to be seen or heard save the endless sigh of the river water breaking on the great stone piers below. Cursing myself for a fool for allowing myself to harbour such vain hopes I returned the way I had come and in the great square attached myself to another group of weary stragglers passing that way and joined their march to the Fortress.


	96. Chapter 96

We wearily climbed the steep way back up to the gates, passing the spot where the dreadful murder of my friend and mentor Lord Turchon had so recently been perpetrated, but there was nothing now to show that it had ever happened. As we ascended towards the gatehouse we met other companies going in the opposite direction, on their way to man the defence of the city, their faces grim and also in many cases very young too. It was clear to me that we had reached the end of our strength. 

At the gatehouse there was a wait as those returning from the north were counted in and told where their companies, or what remained of them were being mustered. As I waited my turn I mulled over a desperate and potentially very dangerous plan, for I still had no idea for certain whether Belegon had fallen in the battle or whether he still lived, and none who I had spoken to on the subject had been able to enlighten me as to which it might be. He had not however been among the group of riders who had overtaken us on the first day of the retreat, for I would not have failed to recognise him, and no other horsemen had followed them thereafter unless they had done so while I slept. However when my turn came I decided I had nothing to lose by taking one final desperate throw of the dice, and I gave my name as Nineth of Lastbridge, of the second Lastbridge Company, and told the sergeant that I had a message of grave import for the Lady Idthrethil from her husband the Lord Belegon, and that I must deliver it at once to her in person. He was taken surprised at this, but acceded wearily to my request and told me to report directly to the Citadel gatehouse before dismissing me and turning his attention to the next tired and hungry man behind me.

I tried to suppress a feeling of elation and relief as I crossed the cobbles of the now very busy courtyard, for the first step of my gamble had paid off. However I reminded myself there might be several more to overcome, not least that I ran the risk that someone might recognise me for who I actually was, but I hoped my beard and generally pitiful state would aid me in that regard. I also stooped and began to limp slightly as I approached the second gatehouse. The immaculately turned out guards ordered me to halt, saluted and demanded to know my business. “I am lately come from the battle, carrying an urgent message from Lord Belegon to his wife, the Lady Idhrethil” I began with as much authority as I could muster “pray admit me at once and take me to her that I may relate his words to her, so that they might bring at least a small amount of comfort to her in this dark hour”. One of them told me to wait and disappeared back through the gate, and after what seemed like an interminable and agonising delay he returned, bid me enter, and handed me into the custody of one of the palace servants. My heart was pounding in my chest by this time and I was sweating in the stuffy night air as we made our way down the familiar route to the royal apartments, for I was barely able to believe that my plan might have paid off after all. We reached an antechamber where I was asked to wait, and the servant disappeared through a further door after which I fancied I could hear the voices in the room beyond. When he returned however he shook his head somewhat disdainfully and signalled for me to depart, saying “the Lady does not wish to speak with you or hear your message”. I was momentarily at a loss, and seeing my inaction the servant repeated his instruction to leave more insistently. The guards posted outside the antechamber heard him raise his voice and opened the door, eager to have something to break the tedium of their watch, and I knew I would have to act quickly. “Please, I perforce did not repeat the secret word that will satisfy her of the authenticity and importance of my message, but I ask you now to return to her and do so”. The servant looked dubious, but grudgingly agreed to my request. “What is this secret word?” he asked, to which my reply was simply “Rushwater”.

He returned a few moments later with an altogether less hostile demeanor and told me to follow him, and he warned me that I would shortly also be in the presence of Queen Elien of Rhudaur and to make sure that I performed the necessary obeisances. I was led into a brightly lit and comfortably furnished room, with a row of windows open to the night air which looked out over the battlements and town beyond. A group of finely dressed women were seated within, and they all ceased what they were doing and looked up as I entered. Elien rose to her feet, and the servant bowed low. I followed his cue and he announced me as Nindir of Lastbridge, lately come from the battle at Bearcliffe. Idrethil, who had been seated at her side was sat bolt upright and pale faced, the embroidery that had been occupying her lying forgotten on her lap. “Leave, all of you” ordered the Queen abruptly, and there was a sudden flurry of activity as the other women and the servant departed, before the door closed heavily behind me and the three of us were suddenly alone. 

“Well met again Esteldir of Northford” said Elien, before abandoning all semblance of propriety and embracing me warmly. We parted and I fell at once into Idhrethil’s arms and we held each other tightly for a very long time in silence, and tears came. “This is a joy beyond all joys” she said eventually, “for I did not think we should be together again in this world. I watched upon the bridge under the full moon, hoping against hope that you might find some way to return to me, and did so again this evening. You did not come, even though the army had returned, and so I thought you must have fallen alongside Belegon in the battle. It was a bitter thought to know that I was free of him at last but had also lost you into the bargain”. I smiled through my own tears of happiness. “You went there? I did also, but my arrival was delayed somewhat by small act of mercy on my part and so we missed each other”. I suddenly realised the import of our words and cast a concerned glance towards Elien, but Idhrethil saw it and laid my concerns to rest. “Do not worry my love, for I have told Elien of our plot and we have her full approval in the matter”. The Queen smiled sadly in acknowledgement of this. “More than that, for I desire greatly you should take me along with you. The weight of the crown presses too greatly upon Berthedir, especially since the news reached us of the defeat at Bearcliffe and the death of Belegon and many of his other captains. He is grown fey and capricious and knows that unless aid comes from some unexpected quarter he is powerless to prevent the kingdom slipping from his grasp. I am greatly afraid of what fate awaits me if I remain here”. Idhrethil gave me an imploring glance. “Forgive me my love, for I would rightly have taken your counsel in this matter first if I could have, but Elien is my oldest and dearest friend and I will not leave her behind”. I shook my head and smiled and laid my hand gently on the Queen’s shoulder. “Nay, be not afeard, I am of the same mind and you shall accompany us”. But then I remembered and became downcast. “It is all very well to speak of flight, but I have been unable to make any preparations for the journey, and have no coin ”. But Idhrethil laughed her sweet musical laugh. “Now it is my turn to gainsay you” she said smiling “for knowing of your plight and hoping against hope that you would return I set about making those preparations myself, and there are two horses stabled and provisions sufficient for the journey waiting for us at the Inn Of The Black Bear near the bridge when we are ready. We must not delay”. I laughed and wept for joy and sheer love of her and held her close to me once more, for now at last I dared to hope again, when it had seemed all hope was gone.

However there could be no escape that night, for I was at the end of my strength and half starved, and the sudden relief and release from any immediate danger left me feeling weak and light headed. Elien saw this and ordained that Idhrethil should take me back at once to her apartments and conceal me there until the following evening and that we should attempt the departure then. Not only that but the weather would hopefully be more favourable, for thunder could now be heard rumbling in the distance and a heavy downpour was sure to follow. We all embraced again and parted, and went to the apartments by a circuitous route so as to reduce the risk of being seen and challenged and again fortune was with us. I scarcely dared believe what was happening, and that it was not merely a wishful dream on my part that I was finally reunited with the woman I loved. In a happy daze I ate my fill at her table, and then she stripped and washed me and tended to my wound before leading me to her bedchamber, where I quickly fell into a deep and contented slumber cradled in her arms like a helpless child. My heart still aches with longing at the memory of those blessed hours.

I slept for a very long time, and when I awoke Idhrethil was gone and I was alone. However she had left me a breakfast and some clean garments, although a glance through the shutters showed it to be well past noon. It took a while for me to clear the sleep from my head, but once I had done so I felt well and content for the first time in a very long time, and full of anticipation at the thought that we would begin our flight westward later that day. Of what had passed in the wider world I knew nothing, for the area of the citadel where I found myself was very quiet, and I could hear neither voice nor footsteps without. I wondered if the Hillmen had reached the city yet, and felt a momentary sense of disquiet at the thought that men stood on the walls whilst I lay abed, but quickly dismissed it. The thunderstorm had also passed unremarked whilst I slept, and the air was now clearer though we would have little moonlight to travel by later unless the sky also cleared.

It was evening before Idhrethil finally returned, and she did so in a state of agitation and distress. “There is no time to be lost” she told me as we shared a quick embrace. “We must make haste to depart, for things go very ill. The Hillmen now stand outside the city, and more will soon join them from the east, for Elford and Greenwood are now in their hands and all roads save the one westward are now closed to us. The defence of the city is in disarray, for it seems many soldiers have cast aside their gear and disappeared rather than face a fight that now seems hopeless to them. Worse still the garrison here has risen in revolt, and the guards were only just able to close the gates of the Citadel against them in the nick of time, or we would have been overwhelmed too. It seems those who returned from the battle were ordered back to the defence of the city without having been offered adequate food or rest and when some men refused and their captain tried to have them punished he found himself facing an outright mutiny, which then spread like a midsummer forest fire through the citadel. So we are now besieged both without and within, and are now tasked to make our way as quickly as possible to the library where Elien will meet us. I fear for her, for Berthedir has lost his wits and raves, speaking another army coming from the south to save us. But Watersmeet is already emptied of men and their lord is slain, so there is no hope”. I did not understand how it would be possible to escape when we were besieged, but did not question this. Instead I set about dressing in some of Belegon’s stuff, which fortunately for me was a reasonably good fit, including a mail shirt, a helm and some good boots. There was also a sword, which I drew from its scabbard to test and found much to my liking. 

It was not long before we were ready, Idhrethil had changed into travelling clothes including breeches and bound her hair in a plait, and I thought to myself how beautiful she looked dressed in that manner. She then donned a light cloak and we prepared to leave, but before we did she paused for a moment to open a box on a shelf and withdrew a small package. “Here, I found these amongst my husband’s things, and would have kept them always in memory of you. But you are returned to me against all chance so I will give them back to you”. It took me a moment to realise what it was she had found, but with another sudden pang of happiness and gratitude saw that they were my family’s papers.


	97. Chapter 97

We lost no time in making our way to the library, but found it empty and silent, the gloom of evening settling over the rows of dusty volumes stacked on the shelves. Idhrethil seemed concerned that Elien was not there to meet us, but we settled down to wait for her, holding each other close and speaking quietly of all that had befallen us since we were last together. The gloom gradually gave way to darkness, but we lit no light, and as we waited we became aware of new sounds in the distance, and at one point we heard footsteps running past outside the door. Idhrethil tensed in my arms at this, for we both knew what this must mean, and I reached down and loosened my new blade in its scabbard. “I fear the gates have been breached my love” I told her softly. “We may not have much time. Do you know what Elien purposed? I fear that if she does not come soon, then we must seek our own road without her”. She nodded. “I regret that I do not, and that her choosing to meet here in the oldest part of the citadel, far from the gate, means our road will be long and perilous. But I may face whatever must come, for good or ill, if I am at your side my love”. With that she smiled and took my face between her hands and we gently kissed.

A moment later we heard a commotion outside the window, in the shadows of the enclosed garden below, and I stepped over to the window just in time to see a small group of men pursue and overcome another who ran slowly as if at the end of his strength, perhaps old or halt. He fell and they were quickly on to him, showing no mercy, for there was a whimper and then the sound of a blade striking home. One of the pursuers laughed and cursed and then they quickly left the scene through the further archway, the path by which I had entered the place so many years before with Angon. “They are upon us” I whispered “we must go”. I took her hand and drew my sword, and somewhat to my surprise she drew a dagger from her belt with her free hand, but I made no comment on it. We began to move towards the door, but quickly halted at the sound of footsteps and voices approaching. Doors further down the corridor were being opened, and some kind of debate was going on amongst the men who were presumably those we had seen moments before. See our escape cut off Idhrethil and I slipped behind the end of a row of shelves and crouched, waiting. Moments later the door burst open, and a man stood panting under the arch, though I could make out little of him. “Anything?” called another, and the man advanced a few steps into the chamber before replying. “Just a lot of old books. There’s nobody and nothing worth having down here, and we need a light if we’re going to go much further. Reckon we should go back up, that’s where the fun is”. The other voice replied, coming to the doorway to join the first. “Nah, there’ll be pickings enough down here and there’s no guards to fight. This must be a library of some sort, let's go back to where we found the old man hiding and come back with some lights. If there’s nothing good in here worth the taking then at least it’ll make a really good fire”. They laughed, and then left, and the speaker barked an order and the men’s footsteps receded back down the passageway. Moments later we heard them in the garden below again, and without a word stood up and made our way quickly out into the passageway.

It was almost completely dark there now, though there were pools of twilight here and there where a window or gallery admitted what little of the day remained, and they were enough for us to mark our path. “Which way?” I asked Idhrethil in a whisper, and she signalled the way we had come, and we began to move as quickly and quietly as we could. We had not gone far when there was a sudden sound directly behind us, and I spun round, slashing my blade into the gloom and automatically placing myself between this new assailant and Idhrethil. “Stay your hand” came the urgent whisper in a familiar voice “it is I Elien”. There was much relief at our reunion, but little joy, for she had witnessed many terrible things and barely escaped herself. “It is only that I know this place like my own hand that enabled me to evade pursuit and make my way here. The citadel has fallen, and the city will soon follow, and many that I loved are dead or worse”. She choked back a sob, then collected herself and told us to follow, and we set off back the way we had come. Passing the library door, we had reached the top of a short flight of steps when the way below was suddenly flooded with lamplight, and the men we had seen earlier appeared from an adjoining passage. There was no time and nowhere for us to hide, and they stopped, as surprised at our sudden appearance as we were at theirs. There were five of them, young soldiers, some of whom still wore the livery of a Greenwood company. They were armed, but several of them only carried daggers, and they raised them and prepared to advance. “Halt” I commanded, and for a moment some of them complied out of habit. “Do not hinder us, for we take common cause with you, and like you I too am lately come from the battle at Bearcliffe. We have no coin and nothing of value to you, let us pass and be on our way and you yours”. The leader of the group, a handsome red haired youth, leered at me and replied, and I recognised him by his voice as the leader who had sent them back to fetch lights. “You don’t look like you take common cause with us to me”. His companions laughed. “You look like you’re running away somewhere. And even if you haven’t got any coin you’ve got plenty that I’d like, your fine blade, your pretty mail shirt, and two fine girls who should give us some sport”. I didn’t wait for any more, and before he could say anything further or raise his guard I had leapt down the steps and felled him, and then swung my blade and caught another of them. The third was already turning to flee, hampered by his lantern and only armed with a dagger, but I caught him in the back and brought him down too. The other two escaped, dropping their light as they fled, and we were once again plunged back into near darkness. Elien, impassive, followed by Idhrethil descended the stair and stepped over the bodies of the soldiers at the bottom without remark and we resumed our journey. I remembered that I had once considered her too kind and gentle to be queen, but I thought to myself that this was yet more evidence that I had underestimated her.

At the end of the lower passageway we followed Elien into a small empty room with wooden panelling on the walls and closed the door. In the distance the sounds of shouting and the clash of steel could now clearly be heard, and still hot from the fight I could not help give vent to my impatience and frustration at this strange diversion. “Peace” she replied, opening the shutters and allowing the weak light of the waning moon to enter the room. “You will soon see my purpose in bringing you here clearly enough”. She was dressed in similar fashion to Idhrethil, and watched with interest as she knelt down and began counting the plain wooden panels along one of the walls, before drawing her own dagger and inserting it into one of the joints to use as a lever. Suddenly I understood, for after a few moments four of the panels swung out and away from the rest revealing an opening large enough to pass through. “Behold, here is a secret way that will take us to the foot of the cliff below. There are several such in the citadel, but the knowledge of their whereabouts is given only to those of royal blood, passed down from one generation to the next. The way is steep and dark, and long, but not difficult”. With that she slid her legs into the opening, turned onto her belly and dropped just out of sight. Idhrethil followed and then it was my turn. I was a little taller than they and somewhat hindered by my sword, so found it more awkward, but soon I was stood on a small stone landing and was able to reach up and pull the panelling closed behind us. We were immediately plunged into complete darkness, and following the sound and voices of the women below I found the top step behind me and began the steep and dizzying descent. After a while the masonry of the walls was replaced by rough hewn rock, and the steps became more irregular and slippery, causing me further concern, but the calm voices of the women and their gentle teasing of me as we descended greatly eased my fear of falling in that dark place.

After what seemed an eternity and with no warning the steps came to an end and I found myself squeezed into a small space with the others. Elien called me to her side and I found her struggling with an ancient and heavy bolt that had seized into place. At first no amount of effort could release it, and I began to fear that we would have to retrace the perilous stairway back up to the citadel. However this thought spurred me on to greater effort and eventually, to the great relief of all, I was able to release it and draw it back. Beyond the ancient and heavy wooden door the darkness was less absolute, and I could hear a few birds singing night songs. Other than that there was no sound and we cautiously emerged at the top of a narrow high walled ravine beneath the towering cliff. Closing the door fast behind us we began the short but steep and awkward descent in the darkness through dense thickets of trees until we emerged onto a narrow lane that ran along the base of the cliff. From there it was no more than a third of a league to the main square and the river beyond, a journey which would have taken us no than half an hour in normal circumstances. However from our vantage point it was clear that there were large numbers of people abroad despite the late hour and the night breeze carried the distant clamour of many voices, shouts and screams to our ears as we watched. Here and there fires could be seen, springing up hungrily into the night sky. “Lastbridge is in ferment” said Elien, her voice grim. “I fear what happened in Bearcliffe is about to be repeated, and it seems that we have escaped one peril only to be faced with another greater one. We will have to avoid the road and try and reach the bridge by the lanes and alleys instead, let us hope for some good fortune this night”. With that we set off down the hill, hoods raised but alert to any possible danger. Idhrethil and I were so close now to our long hoped for escape that to be thwarted again with it almost within our grasp would have been unbearable.


	98. Chapter 98

The first part of our journey took us down into the maze of narrow lanes lined with large houses where the wealthy and those of rank in Lastbridge lived, and it was clear that there was already trouble there. It was nearby that I had delivered Lenneth and her children to her sister just the night before and now everywhere people were leaving their homes and fleeing westward, distressed and fearful for their lives. To make matters worse bands of looters began to appear among them, coming up from the East Road, threatening and in some cases assaulting and robbing them. It was not long before we came across the first body, that of a man lying face down in the road, though whether he was dead or merely injured it was not possible to tell. Though it went against all our natural inclination we did not stop to offer him any aid, for there was no time to be lost and we could not risk Elien being recognised. There were cries and screams in the night air close by, and here and there fires began to spring up. We had almost reached the junction of the road that came down from the fortress with the east road when I heard the sound of horses coming up swiftly behind us. An old man and woman riding tall fine mounts were coming down the lane at a smart trot, calling for all to stand aside and let them pass, and scattering those before them. I pulled Idrethil aside just in time to avoid her being trampled and cursed them for their disregard as they passed. They turned onto the main way just ahead of us, but by the time we reached the corner we saw that they had ridden into a mob who were intent on the citadel and they were being pulled from their horses, screaming and pleading for their lives. What became of them I do not know, but like many of those around us we took advantage of the distraction they had provided by quickly crossing the road and disappearing into the tangle of narrow alleys beyond. 

Our journey had begun in the wealthiest part of Lastbridge, but now it continued in the meanest portion of that place, a maze of filthy alleys and narrow lanes that lay in the angle between the fortress and the north road. I do not doubt that many of those who were attempting to flee came to grief there, for few of those that dwelt there had any reason to love their Dunedain masters. For our own part we struck north at first rather than directly west, but it was difficult to keep any firm idea of direction in those dark stinking alleys where the night sky was little more than a narrow strip between the tall buildings crammed together over our heads and the way was poorly lit by the occasional guttering torch. Just when I was beginning to fear we might be lost I managed to sight the dim ramparts of the fortress beyond the end of a lane and regain my bearings. There were many people abroad in that place, but most merely regarded us with suspicion and did not trouble us, however our luck did not hold and I eventually realised we were being followed. I drew the two women closer to me and hastened our pace, and as we rounded yet another corner finally caught sight of what must be the north road ahead of us at the far end of the lane. A single lantern cast a pool of light outside a small tavern close too, and beyond it a group of men armed with cudgels and knives appeared from a side alley and formed a line blocking our path. It was not long before our followers also made themselves similarly known to our rear, and thereby cut off any hope of retreat. Even with a good sword and the possible advantage of a surprise attack I knew weight of numbers would count against me this time, and there were my companions to consider. I felt my heart begin to pound in my chest, for it was one thing to face danger alone but quite another to do so when the woman I loved more than anything was stood at my side, the thought of any harm coming to her was more than I could bear. We did not break pace, but continued walking, and as we approached those ahead of us I saw that several of them were clearly of Hillman stock, including the brute who had placed himself squarely at the centre of the group and whom I took to be their leader. 

Before he could speak or act, I threw back my hood and demanded, in the Hill Tongue, to know his business. “Stand aside, for we are servants of the Chieftain who waits outside the walls to claim what is rightfully his, and he will be most displeased if he learns that you have hindered us. Make way at once!”. He stood there, jaw agape along with his fellows, suddenly at a loss at what to make of this most unexpected turn of events, but after a moment’s hesitation and to my great relief did step to one side, and his fellows followed suit. I raised my hood again, thanked him curtly and we set off again at a brisk walk, making sure to turn northward as if towards the gate rather than directly to the road at the next meeting of the ways. Once we were well clear of our would be assailants we halted for a moment and my companions, full of relief, embraced me and asked me what I had done to extricate us from the desperate situation we had suddenly found ourselves in. I explained my bluff, and when I had finished Elien let out a sigh. “That was well done indeed, for I truly feared the worst. Let us rest here for a short while if we may, I think we are close to the river now, and if we can cross the road and reach the bank then the bridge lies not too far to the south”. I did not wish to halt so close to our objective, but did not gainsay her, for both of my companions had endured a great deal that day to which they were not accustomed, and I left them for a moment in that dark foul smelling place and went to scout what lay ahead on the north road. I saw fires burning not far from where I stood, but there were few abroad for the moment. As I continued to stand there taking stock the night air was suddenly rent by the sound of many horns and the clamour of a great many voices rising like a distant peal of thunder in the direction of the gate. I rushed at once back to our hiding place and urged my companions to resume our journey without delay, for I rightly guessed that the Hillmen had either won the gate or that it had been opened to them from within, and that they would soon be pouring unopposed into the city.

We ran now, as fast as we dared in the dark and semi dark, crossing the road and descending gradually towards the river, aided by the wider and better paved lanes that served that area, for between the road and the river many craftsmen and artisans lived and kept workshops, and it was noticeably more prosperous. We saw others there, most of them fleeing southward as we were. When we finally reached the the riverbank I called a halt for a moment to allow us to catch our breath, but before we could set off again we heard the sound of many feet approaching at a run. “Go” I told my companions “and if they are our foes I will hinder them as long as I may”. I drew my sword, planted my feet on the cobbles and waited, but Elien and Idhrethil remained at my side, resolute and unwilling to leave. Another fire burning up river cast a flickering light along the riverside and out onto the slick swift moving surface of the river, and in the ruddy light a large group of men came into view, running in ragged formation, some supporting wounded comrades who limped at their sides. 

I gave a sigh of relief and sheathed my blade again, for I could see that these were not Hillmen, but our own soldiers. As they reached us I saluted and called out and they came briefly to a halt, weapons at the ready. “Hail, men of Rhudaur, what is your report?” A young soldier wearing the insignia of a lieutenant stepped forward and returned my salute. He was fresh faced and handsome, younger than I by some years, and so were most of his men from the look of them. He looked at me curiously, since I wore no surcoat, but still replied courteously. “We did what we could but were too few and outnumbered, the mob took the gates and opened them and have let the enemy into the city. I have lost many men, but I hope to unite what remains of my force with any others we can find and make a stand at the square and crossing of the ways. If not then the city is lost and we must all fall back to the fortress. What tidings can you bring us in return? For we have heard nothing from the citadel for some time”. It was not I who answered him, but Elien. “Ill tidings only, Thanguron son of Gwainor, the fortress and citadel have fallen to a rebellion, and the King is slain. You and your men have rendered faithful service, but now you must look to your own salvation and take the road westward to Arthedain, as we do”. The young lieutenant gasped and went down on one knee, and some of those with him quickly followed suit. “My lady” he said incredulously “how come you here?” She replied, smiling. “Yea, it is I, and it is a long tale. But come, on your feet and let us away without further delay”. 

It was something of a relief after our perilous flight to find ourselves amongst a group of our own soldiers, and the remainder of the journey to the bridge passed without further incident. As we made our way quickly along the riverside I asked Elien how it was that she knew these soldiers. "Many were mainly youths who were in service in the citadel" she replied breathlessly “and were placed under arms in order to carry out guard duties in the city and replace more experienced men sent to battle. Thanguron, the lieutenant, is a minstrel by trade, and a very fine one at that, as his father was before him. You must hear him sing one day if you get the opportunity”. 

At last the great arches of the ancient bridge loomed into view out of the shadows, and even at a distance it was clear that there was now much activity upon it. To our relief it was held by more loyal soldiers, guards from the West Gate who had formed a defensive line there to keep a passage secure for who wished to flee across it. They greeted us as we approached and asked for news, and I told the sergeant, a grizzled veteran who commanded there, that the North Gate had fallen and that the city and citadel were now lost. “So we have heard, but no matter” he replied “we will remain here as long as we may, for there are still many coming this way, and we will hold the crossing open for them while we can”. I thanked him and we passed across the bridge with Thanguron and his men and made our way directly to the Inn of the Black Bear, where we hoped to collect the horses and the supplies that had been prepared for us. As we approached however it was clear that something was wrong, for no lights showed in any of the windows of the inn and the front door stood wide open to the street. A quick inspection within and in the rear yard confirmed my worst fears, for it was clear the place had been emptied of anything of use or value, and both our horses and our supplies were long gone.


	99. Chapter 99

My companions received this news evenly, for they had already guessed what had happened. “No matter” said Elien cheerfully “we shall walk all the way to Amon Sul instead, and I will hope for a pleasant journey in good company”. With that we joined the stream of travellers passing out through the west gate and into the darkness, Elien on one arm and Idhrethil on the other. The former Queen of Rhudaur maintained her outwardly cheerful demeanor, but as we passed under the arch where a solitary torch spluttered, I saw that tears were coursing down her cheeks. We all knew that we would never pass that way again and that everything we had known was now lost to us, and I too was filled with sadness thinking of all those I had left behind. My brave father, of whom I remembered so little, and my beautiful mother. Poor Radulf who had been my friend when I had none. Brave and noble Lord Angon, to whom I owed so much, and Sergeant Cenric, who had watched over me as I grew up. The captains I had served under, the dauntless Arahael, the noble Berenion and my true friend Daeron, whom I still loved and mourned despite our latter parting of the ways. Fine men, but all gone, and the land they had loved and striven so hard to defend had fallen into ruin and despair. I mourned for them all, for all that was passing and held both my companions a little tighter for I knew that they were all that remained to me now. Yet for my part I was indeed fated to enter that gate again, but it would be many years later and in very different circumstances. 

We followed the road in the darkness for several hours trying to put some distance between us and the city until the grey light of dawn began to creep across the sky and we had more light to see by. By now we were all completely spent, and many of those we had set off with had already abandoned the march, unable to go any further. I suggested to my companions and those that remained with us that we should now leave the road and find somewhere to rest for a few hours, since there was no sign as yet of any pursuit. We entered some birch woods on the south side of the road and found the ruins there of what might once have been a farmstead or hamlet, for there were the remains of walls and piles of stones amongst the trees. It seemed as good a place as any and I found a comfortable enough spot and settled down there with Idhrethil. Thanguron had wanted to post guards, but was overruled, and soon the only sounds that could be heard in the corner where I lay were the birds of the forest greeting the dawn, and the soft breathing of my love as she slept in my arms. Despite my utter weariness I resisted sleep for as long as I could, savouring the moment. Though an arduous and uncertain journey still lay ahead of us we were now free and I was filled at last with a tremendous feeling of peace and hope for the future.

It was Idhrethil who woke me, and the first sight I saw as I opened my bleary eyes was her beautiful face framed by the green leaves and blue sky overhead. The birds still sang around us, and my bleary eyed smile was returned radiantly and followed by a kiss. “Wake up sleepy head, it is time to go. It is near to mid morning and we did not travel as far as we might have hoped last night”. Indeed the smoke of the many fires that continued to burn in Lastbridge still seemed perilously close by, so we wasted no time before resuming our journey. It was a perfect summers day, and for a while we forgot our growing hunger and weariness and were happy to walk quietly hand in hand, a little behind the others. We met others on the road as we went, including some of the soldiers who had remained behind the guard the bridge. We found them resting at the side of the road as we had, and they hailed us and rose to join us. Later on as we paused again Thanguron and some of the others gathered round and listened while I told them what I knew of what lay ahead of us in Arthedain. I am sure they were reassured by what I had to tell them of the vigour and splendour of that Kingdom and the wisdom of those who ruled it, and I told them that I was sure that once Amon Sul became aware of our plight that they would send aid, and so indeed it proved.

We resumed our journey in better spirits, although we could not maintain anything like a marching pace I still hoped we might reach Halfway Hill before nightfall the following day and perhaps find food and shelter there if it was held by Cardolan. We were now near the spot where I had been overtaken by the elves on my previous journey west, and been enchanted by their song. I told Idhrethil the tale, and also related what the Prince had told me regarding his own time in Imladris and its half elven lord. She was delighted at this, and professed the hope that she too would one day see elves herself, and perhaps even hear them sing. With that she began to sing herself, just a childish round from the nursery, but I realised I had never heard her do so before, and I wondered at the loveliness of her voice. Hearing her do so Elien, who had been walking just ahead of us turned her head to listen and joined in, laughing, and their sweet voices were soon entwined in the simple harmony. However my delight at what I was hearing was suddenly cut short by a cry from Thanguron, for there was something on the road ahead. As we approached we saw that there were several bodies lying there, travellers like ourselves, and they did not stir as we came near to them. It soon became clear why, for they were all pierced with arrows, and dark blood was pooling around them on the stones of the road. In an instant all my feelings of hope and happiness vanished and were replaced a fear so sharp it almost stopped my breath. It seemed that I alone of that company recognised the provenance of the thick shafts and the crude black fletchings, for I had seen them all too often in the forests of the north. “What is it?” asked Elien, seeing my discomfiture “who did this to these poor folk?” I did my best to regain my composure, but all the while my eyes darted to and fro searching for signs of the enemy, and our surroundings, which only a few moments before had seemed so pleasant and benign were now full of hidden peril. “I fear that this is orc work, and that we find ourselves in grave danger, for we are few in number, poorly armed and far from help. I do not think that they came here by chance, for the malice of the King of Angmar knows no bounds and they have been sent here to harry us. We should leave the road at once, but not stray too far from it, for if any help does come from Arthedain that is where we will find it. Quickly, for I fear an ambush.” I grasped Idhrethil’s hand, her face suddenly pale and fearful, and we set off as one with our companions towards the cover of the trees on the south side of the road.

But I saw the danger too late, and the trap had been sprung. The sky had clouded over somewhat as the day had waned, covering the sun, and no sooner had we set off than the first arrow whistled over our heads, to be followed by many others, some of which quickly found a mark. Shrieks and screams rent the air but my only thought was to reach the relative cover of the trees. In the corner of my eye I could see orcs pouring across the road behind us, far too many to have any hope of prevailing against, but I thought I could perhaps call some of the soldiers to me to make a stand whilst allowing the women to try and make their escape. We were nearly there when I heard a thud close by and Idhrethil’s hand twisted sharply out of my grasp and she tumbled headlong. My first thought was that she had tripped over a root or stone, but when I bent down to help her back up she did not respond and then, as if in a dream I saw that there was something terribly wrong. A thick black feathered shaft stood planted deep in the middle of her back, and crimson blood suddenly gouted from between her beautiful lips. Her eyes were wide open as if in an expression of surprise but they were glassy and I knew at once that she was gone. Kneeling at her side, and now careless as to my own safety I raised my face to the sky and screamed long and loud in anguish before standing, drawing my sword, and charging the oncoming orcs alone. I no longer feared death, and in that moment I would have welcomed it, for it seemed that all reason for living had been taken from me. I fell on them and fought them with an insane ferocity, cleaving helm and limb, but would quickly have been overcome and perished there if Thanguron and many of the others had not seen what was happening and quickly rallied to my side. A number of the young soldiers from the Keep who did so paid a bitter price for their foolhardy courage, for they had never faced orcs before and despite their lack of stature the speed and strength of this new foe was beyond them.

We would all have died there that day, but as our enemy began to overwhelm us we became aware of a new sound and the ground suddenly shook beneath our feet. As if from nowhere a great number of men on horseback came flying through the press at a full gallop, cleaving, trampling and slashing as they went and the orcs began shrieking and fell quickly back into the woods on the north side of the road. Then as quickly as it had started the fight was over. I dropped my sword and staggered back through the charnel to where Idhrethil lay. I knelt down, gently lifted her poor dead body into my arms and wept piteously, rocking her like a child, unable to believe that she was gone. I remained there for a long time, oblivious to all else in the world, tasting the first and fiercest pangs of the grief and loss that has haunted me all my days.


	100. Chapter 100

In the end there were no more tears to shed and strong but gentle hands parted me from Idhrethil and laid her out on the turf, covering her with her cloak. “We must bury the dead here for we cannot tarry in the wild lands, these hills are crawling with yrch. Come with us now and say the words of departure for her”. The speaker was a rider of Arthedain, his face full of concern and pity, and two of his fellows carefully lifted her body and carried it away from the scene of the brief battle to where a shallow pit had been hastily dug under the eaves of the forest. A number of the fallen had already been laid out carefully in it, including several of the riders, for our rescue had not been achieved without cost. The survivors of our own party and a good number of the riders were gathered around, and as I approached Elien and Thanguron came to meet me. Their faces were marked with grief, eyes red from weeping like my own, and we greeted each with heartfelt embraces. “I too mourn the loss of Lady Idhrethil” said Thanguron “for she was always courteous and kind to me, and had a genuine love for the songs I sang. She was grave and beautiful, a rose among so many bright and inconsequential daisies in the citadel”. Then Elien spoke, her grey eyes brimming with further tears. “And I have lost the best and truest friend anyone could wish for, for she was wise and gentle and always spoke the truth even when I did not wish to hear it. I can never repay the debt I owe her, and my heart is broken”. I could not find words to answer them, and we stood together in silence, remembering. For mine was not the only grievous loss that had been suffered that day, many of Thanguron’s men had perished in the fight, brave youths that both he and Elien had known well for many years.

When all was prepared the captain of the horsemen came forward to begin the burial ceremony. I knew him at once, for it was none other than Amdir, who had intercepted our embassy on the road to Amon Sul and escorted us to the tower.When he recognised me he came over and greeted me solemnly. “Hail Esteldir of Northford, we meet again, and I wish it could have been in better circumstances. I salute your courage and that of your companions, let us now bury our dead together with honour”. I thanked him and stood at his side as he said the words of departure for his men, and for those others who had travelled with us and had none there to speak for them. Then Thanguron performed the same duty for his soldiers, and finally it was my turn. TrembIing, I stood over the grave with Elien close at hand and commended the life of Idhrethil to Eru and Mandos. “A long and difficult road we travelled together, full of grief and many partings, but ever was our love constant, and ever did we live in hope that we might one day be united at last. That hope was realised for just a short while, and at least we were together at the end. But now the light has been extinguished, and I vow that I will spend whatever time remains to me seeking vengeance for her death. Hear me now!” There was a murmur of assent from those around me and I picked up a handful of soil and tossed it into the grave, before turning away, blinded again by tears. Elien followed and then came to my side and made our away back towards the road together in silence. When all the other mourners had said their final farewells soldiers carrying with shovels came forward from where they had been waiting under the shelter of the trees and set to filling the grave back in. So that quiet place some seven leagues along the road west of Lastbridge, under the eaves of some nameless wood is where my love now lies until the world is changed, and there has not been a day since that I have not thought of her and longed to be with her once again.

Shortly afterwards a detachment of riders came back along the road from the east and reported that they had ridden to within sight of the west gate of the city and that it was now closed, and that they had found no further travellers on the road. Conscious of the danger facing even a large well armed company in the wild with the forests apparently teeming with orcs Amdir ordered his men to ready themselves at once for departure. Spare horses were brought up, and any who wished to ride were offered mounts, though Thanguron and some of the others declined, preferring to continue the journey on foot. Elien and I both accepted however, though I wondered whether I had chosen well and almost had a change of heart when I was presented with my mount, a tall and apparently fiery chestnut horse who had lost his rider. However once aboard I found him to be obedient and willing to do my bidding and I soon forgot my initial misgivings. After the column began to move off we fell in beside Elien, who was clearly an accomplished rider, and had no such trouble with her own mount. In the miserable hours that followed her company was a boon to me, as I think mine must have been to her. Without her by my side in the days that followed I think I would soon have fallen into black despair and sought an ending, but the grief we shared gave us common cause and a reason to continue. I owed her a debt I could never repay for what she had done for Idhrethil and I, and we were all that remained to each other of our former lives.  
Here and there along the road we saw other fresh graves, more signs of the enemy’s cruel handiwork, for the orcs had clearly exacted a heavy toll on those who had fled westward from Lastbridge. Just before we halted for the night we passed through the scene of another fight between the horsemen and the enemy, for the corpses of many orcs in the familiar livery of Angmar lay strewn on the ground alongside the road. A little further on, with the sun beginning to set in the west we came upon a second company of horsemen setting up camp for the night on a broad meadow. Nearby a stream passed under a small stone bridge under the road, and the edge of the forest was distant enough in that place to forestall a surprise attack from the cover it provided. They too had gathered a considerable number of travellers from Rhudar with them, and we saw them watch with interest as we approached. The column came to a halt and we dismounted, and I was grateful, for I was unaccustomed to riding and was sore and weary. Following the cue of the other riders we removed the saddles and harness from our mounts and led them to where picket lines had been set up near the stream. Here they were watered and allowed to graze while we too were given food and drink and settled down for another night under the stars. 

Our rations were good, much better than I was used to, but I had little appetite for them. I sat with Elien and Thanguron and his men and we ate in silence, but after we had finished Elien spoke to us, her tone surprisingly diffident. "Brave men of Rhudaur, we have all endured much and suffered great pain and loss together, but perhaps in a few days time, if fate wills it, we will all have the chance to begin a new life in Arthedain. I wish to ask a boon of you all, though I have no reason to expect you to bend to my will in this matter. It is this: few others who have made the journey westward with us are likely to recognise me or know who I truly am, or was. I pray that you do not name me as princess, or even the queen I was for a short while, but simply say if it is asked of you that I am a woman of good birth and no more. I wish to leave my old life and all its faults behind me and begin afresh and I pray that you will aid me in this". Thanguron was the first to answer. "Lady Elien, for the love all here bear you I think I speak for all when I say that we will aid you in this matter without reservation". There was a murmur of agreement, and one of the men spoke up asking "my lady, what do you hope to do?" She replied, her tone growing sterner again. "I too thirst for vengeance against the foe that has taken so many and much from us, but it is not the lot of womankind to bear arms and do great deeds in battle. Instead, if I may, I will enter service in a house of healing and learn what I can of leechcraft so that I may give succour to the wounded and dying. Thus I too will be avenged". With that she drew the dagger she carried at her waist and in one swift movement cut off the long plait that had bound her golden tresses, and the shortened hair that remained fell untidily about her face. Thanguron gasped in dismay as she tossed the plait aside, but she laughed. "Nay, I have no more need of it, from now on my life will be filled with hardship and suffering and duty". I do not think I can have been the only one there who thought, even in the depths of sadness and loss, that she had lost nothing of her grace and beauty by the deed.

Later that evening, and at our own insistence the soldiers among us joined the watch on the camp that night, standing ready beside the horsemen of Arthedain in the dark, but the orcs did not trouble us again. I had drawn one of the earlier watches but the moon was already riding high in the heavens by the time I returned to our resting place and woke my replacement. Elien was still awake, and whispered my name softly in the dark, and I went over to her. "I am frightened and alone and far from home, will you lie with me this night and hold me to you?" she asked plaintively. We wrapped our cloaks around us and lay together as brother and sister, our tears mingling at first before we were eventually overcome by weariness. Yet in the morning I saw something in Thanguron's expression when he saw us together that troubled me, and I realised that he greatly loved and desired his former mistress.


	101. Chapter 101

We reached Halfway Hill on the afternoon of the following day, and as I had hoped might be the case we found that a permanent camp had indeed been established there. The hill that gave the place its name had been crowned with a fresh earthwork and palisade and the pennants of Cardolan and Arthedain fluttered above it. Below the new ramparts a larger and more temporary camp had spread out, the tents and wains of the baggage train that had accompanied the horsemen eastward from Amon Sul. Horns were sounded to mark the return of our column and when we halted grooms came forward to take our horses away to be fed and watered. Once again it was something of a relief to be able to dismount, though my discomfort seemed to have lessened somewhat, but Elien on the other hand did not seem to have been troubled at all by our many hours in the saddle. We made our way through the camp to rejoin our fellow countrymen, and found that an area had been prepared in anticipation of our arrival. Here we were given food and drink, those who had need of care had their hurts tended to, and there were sufficient tents so that none would need to spend a third night in the open. Although it would have been more seemly to do otherwise Elien chose to remain with us rather than seek a tent with other womenfolk, as she did not wish to be recognised or to be parted from us.

So it was that we were preparing to settle down for the night when a messenger came to our tent, asking for me by name. He informed me that Captain Amdir and Prince Merendir wished me to join them, desiring to speak with me. I did not know this prince but rose at once to follow the messenger, and guessing that they sought news of what had transpired in Rhudaur suggested to Elien that she might wish to accompany me. “For it may be to your advantage to learn more of these men, and if indeed they wish to know what befell us then few are better placed to speak on the matter than you”. I could not help once again noticing a hint of dismay in Thanguron’s expression as he watched us leave with the messenger. We passed through the well ordered camp, across the road and up the hill to the newly constructed stronghold. Within its walls stood a number of tents scattered amongst stone buildings in different stages of construction, and it was to the largest of those tents, brightly lit by lanterns against the deepening gloom of evening, that we were brought. 

As we entered Amdir came forward and greeted us in Sindarin, recognising Elien but glancing quizzically at the unexpected change in her appearance. He thanked us for joining them and then introduced us to his commander who wore the deep blue livery of Cardolan. "May I present Prince Merendir, Lord of the Eastern Marches and commander of this newly established position, it is he who was charged with the rescue of those fleeing from the disorder in your land. This is Captain Esteldir, former emissary of the King of Rhudaur, and his companion the Lady..." I interjected "Elien" and he continued. "Thank you, Elien, yes of course. We would hear your accounts and learn more of what has happened in your land, for the Seeing Stones do not reveal all that passes". The Prince was tall, fair of face and grey eyed, like many of the high born Dunedain of those lands, and put me very much in mind of Argeleb and his son. “I trust that you are as well as circumstances allow, and ask you to forgive us for disturbing your much needed rest" he said graciously "pray join us at our table and eat and drink a little with us if you will". Out of long habit rather than necessity it was Elien who replied on our behalf, graciously accepting his invitation in Sindarin, for to my surprise it seemed she too was able to converse well enough in that tongue.

We joined them at the table and after eating and drinking a little began to relate how Dunedain rule in Rhudaur had finally unravelled following the death of King Elion, with the murder of the Chieftain of the Hillmen, the squabble over the succession, defeat at the hands of the new Chieftain’s army and the fall of Lastbridge. The Prince and the Captains listened intently, especially to Elien’s account of matters. “You are singularly well informed my Lady” said the Prince, clearly curious “how came you to have such knowledge of these matters?” She replied "My Lord, I was married to a Lord of high standing in the King's household, and so was privy to much that occurred in those last few months. My husband fell during the sack of the citadel and it was only the courage and fortitude of my companion here that enabled me to make my escape". The Prince replied solicitously, expressing regret for her loss. “I thank you for your kindness” she replied in turn “but we must also thank you for saving so many of our lives on the road, for without your intervention we would surely all have perished”. He shook his head. “It is many years since we have seen orc kind so far south, and I do not think their sudden reappearance was a matter of chance. They ravaged my land for many years, and it seems we will soon have open war again if the allegiance of the new rulers lies with Angmar as seems likely to be the case".

We sat reflecting on his words in silence for a little while before the Prince spoke again. "I trust that the arrangements we have made for you are satisfactory even if they are somewhat rudimentary. We will resume the march westward in two days, when Amdir and his men and horses have had an opportunity to rest and recuperate and are ready to return to Amon Sul. Further arrangements will then be made for your onward journey to Bree and then either northward to Fornost, or westward to my own fair city of Ost-en-Tyrn should you choose the shorter road. Whatever your choice it has been decreed that you will all be given the opportunity to begin new lives among us fitted to your station and aptitudes. In that case my Lady, what would you hope for? Elien replied earnestly “My Lord, I desire to enter service in a House Of Healing and learn Leechcraft so that I may ease the suffering and tend to the sick and those those hurt in battle ”. The Prince was evidently surprised her answer, but it was clear to him that this was no ordinary woman of high birth who stood before him in her mannish clothing and roughly shorn hair, and he expressed his admiration at her courage and strength of purpose. "Your wish is unusual for one of your rank, and a hard choice but there is no reason that it could not happen" he continued " the skill and lore of the Healers of Fornost is a mattern of renown, and if you are sincere in your desire then I will personally see to it that you are offered a position there. What of you Captain?” he said, turning his attention to me. I clutched the hilt of my sword and also spoke with feeling. “My Lord Prince, I have only know life as a soldier, and that is what I will remain. If fortune has been kind to them I hope perhaps to find some of the men I left behind at Amon Sul five years since and serve alongside them if I may. Captain and King‘s Emissary I might once have been but I now hold no rank now beyond that of a common soldier, and I do not seek any more than that for myself”. The Prince and Amdir both looked surprised at this. “Your service will be gratefully accepted, and the men of Rhudaur that you speak of still serve at Amon Sul under their captain Norchon. They have proved themselves to be incomparably brave and loyal and are held in high regard at the tower. Whatever misfortune may have befallen you lately is of no account, for it is clear from our dealings with you that you have proved yourself worthy of the rank and titles you previously held”. I thanked him and bowed, abashed but quietly heartened by the tidings he had brought me of my old friend Norchon and the others.

Afterwards we returned to our billet, our grief and sadness now tempered a little by renewed hope for the future. The others too were reassured by what we were able to relate of our meeting, and fell to quietly discussing amongst themselves what each might choose to do at the end of our journey. Several of the soldiers expressed a desire to remain with me to Amon Sul, but Thanguron was not among them. When his turn came he spoke softly, eyes downcast. “I have always tried to do my duty and fulfil my oaths of service, but I am not a soldier by natural inclination, and though it may seem craven my choice is to return to my former occupation if I am free to do so. I hope you will not think ill of me for this, my lady”. This last question was directed at Elien, who smiled kindly and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Nay, you must follow your heart as I follow mine, and it would truly be a waste if your songs were heard by only a few or none at all. Would you sing for us now?” A look of anguish crossed his face in the dim light of the single lantern that illuminated the tent, but he acknowledged her request. “I swore I would not sing again until I was free of war and misery and knew peace again, but since it is you that ask it of me I will break that vow”. I saw that her hand remained on his shoulder, and when he stood to begin his song she sat down at his side, her grey eyes fixed on him.

We all fell silent and he began the lay of Beren and Luthien in a pure and beautiful voice choked with emotion. I could tell at once that he possessed a rare talent, and that Elien had not exaggerated his gifts. I also knew, from his expression and the way he looked at her, that she was Luthien to his Beren as he sang. Others from the surrounding tents and soldiers from the camp who had been passing heard his voice and gathered round to listen in a reverent silence, and after a while the audience had grown considerably. I would hazard that there were many tears shed other than my own that night as they listened the ancient tale of love, loss and eventual redemption unfold and saw in it a mirror to their own suffering and loss.


	102. Chapter 102

We remained at the camp at Amon Perin for a further two days as Prince Merendir had ordained, and during that time I took the opportunity to learn something of our fellow travellers. Although considerably more must have set off from the West Gate into the night just a few days since scarce three hundred remained. Many among them were nobles or merchants who had feared wrath of the Hillmen, but there were ordinary folk too and soldiers of all ranks. It was with a mixture of pleasure and some sadness too that I discovered that Eryndir and other men of the Watersmeet Company were amongst them, men who I had served with at Northford. They too professed a wish to join the exiles at Amon Sul and seek revenge on our enemy, and I was heartened by the thought that I might soon be serving alongside them once again.   
On the third day we resumed our journey westward, with the travellers from Rhudaur following the horsemen on foot or riding in the wagons of the supply train. Prince Merendir did not join us however, but he was there in the morning to bid us farewell and wish us good fortune. Elien and I had been offered horses to ride again, but she had declined, declaring that she wished to travel with the rest of our companions, and I was not unhappy to be able to follow her lead. The column went at a slow pace under skies that were increasingly overcast for three days until we came into more open lands and finally within view of the tower. My heart quickened at the sight of it, standing proudly on the horizon for I knew my journey would soon be at an end, and my new life, so different from the one I had hoped lay ahead so recently with Idhrethil, would begin. That loss weighed heavily on me and during that time I spoke little to those around me, keeping my own counsel. Elien spent much of the journey in the company of Thanguron, who had resolved to travel to Fornost with her, and if it seemed that love now blossomed between them I felt no rancour at the thought of it. I could only welcome the thought of Elien finding some love and happiness when she had known so little before. There was no longer a place for such things in my life, plain living and hard deeds were all that lay ahead for me now.  
She did however purposely seek me out when we reached the vale where the battle had taken place and where the burial mounds, now green with grass, stood alongside the road. There were tears in her eyes as she asked me if I knew where her brother lay, and we left the column and passed towards the barrow, arm in arm through scrub where forgotten rusting relics of the battle still lay scattered. When we reached the summit she fell to the ground and wept inconsolably for a brother she had loved better than any other, and I stood over her in mute witness, suddenly weeping too for all those who had fought alongside me and not lived to see the sun set. In all the time I had known her I had never seen her so bereft and forlorn, all her outward steel and purpose forsaken. The sight of it tore at my heart, but eventually she fell quiet and composed herself once again and rose to her feet. "Farewell Eldir, last Prince of Rhudaur, my ever joyful and steadfast companion through all the years of my life. Ever did your great heart and rash courage lead you astray and in the end it proved your undoing. I miss you so, foolish brother”. I went to her side and held her close to me and after a while we turned away and went back down together in silence to rejoin the others.   
The column climbed the rise out of the vale and the final long straight that ran to the foot of the hill came into view. The tower loomed ever closer above us as we approached and was a source of wonderment to all those who were seeing it for the first time. I saw that the camp that had stood below the hill when I had last been there was gone, and a veritable town had sprung up in its place to service the growing garrison. Warehouses, stables, inns, forges and dormitory halls stood there now, all soundly built and well ordered as was only to be expected in this land.  
After an further hour or so we reached the place and my journey was at an end. There, stood at the side of the road among the crowd of soldiers who watched us arrive, dressed incongruously in the gear of Arthedain I saw Norchon and some of his men. There were cries of joy as others too amongst our number recognised long lost friends and comrades and were reunited with them, and I too left my companions and called out to him."Of all the faces I hoped most for but least expected to see here today yours was the foremost" he said laughing after we had embraced each other strongly and stood facing each other. His face became serious as he looked me up and down. "Esteldir friend, I would hardly have known you. I know not what terrible trials you have endured since last we stood together, but they have truly left their mark on you and aged you beyond your years. But you have reached this place now and you will be able to rest awhile in safety. There is a place for you and any of the others newly arrived who wish to take up arms again and serve here if you desire it, and the King of Arthedain is as good a master as any soldier could hope to serve. For we are treated most excellently here". I smiled sadly, suddenly feeling the weight of my grief again. "Norchon, I am gladdened to hear your words, and I say that my only wish now is to do as you say and serve here alongside you. There are many others who have travelled here who I know are of the same mind and I foresee that the strength of your company will soon be greatly increased".  
The column came to a halt shortly afterwards and began to disperse, and the travellers from Rhudaur were ushered into a large hall filled with rows of tables and benches and walls lined with bright banners. There we were seated and served steaming bowls of stew along with good bread and ale, the first and best hot meal many of us had eaten for a very long time. I was again with Elien and Thanguron and the others and we ate eagerly in silence, and felt much restored afterwards. When all around us had had taken their fill there was some activity at the far end of the hall and a familiar dark robed figure climbed onto the dais. A guard stamped his spear butt on the floor to call for silience and Norgalad, Master of the Stone and Lord of the tower of Amon Sul began to address the hall in the common tongue . "Men and women of Rhudaur, it is my duty to welcome you here, in the name of King Malvegil, to the ancient watch tower and stronghold of Amon Sul in the Kingdom Of Arthedain . You have endured much in order to reach this place, and I salute your courage and strength and we share the sorrow of any of you who lost loved ones on the road here. Our kingdoms were sundered long ago but we remain kin, bound by ties of blood and history and we did not abandon you in your hour of need. Now you will be welcomed back among us and given the opportunity to begin your lives afresh in our land. Your journey westward towards Bree will resume tomorrow, and from there you will have the choice of remaining in Cardolan and travelling to Ost-en-Edhil or the taking the longer road northward to Fornost. However if there are any among you who wish to join Captain Norchon and his company of men from Rhudaur who serve here then I would ask that you make yourselves known and make your way outside this hall, for once all is set in order we will leave for the tower. I wish you all good fortune and happiness for the future, and may the Valar watch over and protect you". He bowed and left the dais and warm and grateful applause erupted in the hall.  
I realised with a sudden shock that the hour of my parting from Elien and the others had come, much sooner than I had hoped or expected it would, and I rose at once to my feet. She too rose from her seat, her face now grave, and though she was weary, her clothes travel stained and her fair hair tousled and awry it was as if I saw her for the very first time. I suddenly realised how very beautiful she was, and with a pang how deeply I would miss her companionship. I was filled with sharp regret then that I had not chosen to remain with her and travelled to Fornost, but I had made a vow of vengeance and could not amend my chosen course now. "Farewell Esteldir, staunch friend and companion, to who I owe so much and without whom I would not have survived this journey" she said softly. I replied, my voice suddenly thick with emotion. "My Lady, if you owed me any debt you have already repaid it tenfold, and it is I who remain in debt to you forever for all you have done for me. I will not forget you, and I pray that you will find peace and contentment on your chosen path. Mayhap we will meet again, and I will promise to seek for you if I am ever in Fornost". She smiled, but her grey eyes were sad. "I hope it is so" she said simply, and then we embraced and she took me in her arms with a vehemence that surprised me and held me for a long time. We parted reluctantly and I kissed her gently on the brow before she left me.   
Then it was time to say goodbye to the others, including Thanguron. I wished them all good fortune for the future and secured a solemn promise from him to watch over and protect Elien, which he was only too happy to give. Then finally, when all was done I turned away without looking back and left the hall, and another chapter of my life was come to an end.


	103. Chapter 103

The new arrivals swelled the number of exiles at Amon Sul to full company strength, and Norchon's command gained many fine and experienced men as a result. After making the long climb to the fortress, a march we would soon become all too familiar with, we spent the evening reacquainting ourselves with old friends and sharing our many stories. There were many tales of hardship, sacrifice and loss, but also of great courage and hope rekindled for the future. We were all heartened by what we heard from those who were already serving there, for their life at Amon Sul in the time since we had last parted been all they could have hoped for .  
The weather finally broke and the following day dawned wet and windy, but it did not dampen the general mood of newfound optimism among us, and after being issued with the new and unfamiliar gear of our adopted homeland we gathered in the courtyard directly below the tower. There we took our turn swearing oaths of fealty and service to the Kingdom of Arthedain in the presence of Lord Norgalad and his captains. When my time came I announced myself and spoke the words in Sindarin rather than the common tongue, and Norgalad, remembering me inclined his head in recognition and acknowledgement and accepted my pledge. Later that morning I stood briefly on the wall and watched in the rain as a column slowly made its way westward far below, and I silently wished them well. The time for any regret had passed however, for I had made my choice.  
I had been content to serve as a common soldier, for there were a disproportionate number of men among us who had previously held one rank or another and I was still one of the youngest there. However Norchon insisted that I should serve as one of his lieutenants, both for my command of Sindarin and also because I was already known to some of the other captains. I quickly settled into my new duties, and found the return to the regular routines and rhythm of a soldier's life a source of comfort, for they were all I had ever truly known. As I had done many times before throwing myself into my work helped ease my grief and brought me a small measure of peace and even contentment. I did find myself occasionally wondering how Elien was faring, but checked myself, for our paths were now sundered and her future lay elsewhere.  
After a few months serving at the tower, during which we were able to rest, regain our full strength and become accustomed to our new life, we received an order to send some men to the outpost at Amon Perin. Norchon assigned Eryndir and I to this task, and we took a hundred or so eastward to serve there under Prince Merendir. Our new posting lacked many of the comforts of life at Amon Sul, but the work was much more familiar to us from our days in Northford. Apart from helping to complete some of the building work and escorting the supply trains we often patrolled along the road and into out into the wild, occasionally reaching the river. From there we caught tantalising glimpses of the land we had forsaken on the far bank. On several occasions too this meant that I was able to visit the place where Idhrethil was buried and each time the grief I felt was newly as raw as the day I lost her. Evermind grew there now on the grave, and the bones and rusted and rotting gear of the orcs who had been slain there were lost in the long grass, but I would always be haunted by our parting.  
Those first few first few years were largely peaceful, and we saw little if anything of the enemy during that time. After a while parties of elven folk began to appear on the road again, and they would occasionally take shelter overnight with us at the outpost. Now we wore the livery of Arthedain they were noticeably less reticent in their dealings with us when we encountered them and would often greet us and ask us for news of the road ahead. In return they would occasionally answer our questions regarding the lands they had travelled through, but of Rhudaur they had surprisingly little to tell Although parts of Lastbridge had burned on the night it fell, the breaking of the siege had not been followed by a sack and life there seemed to have quickly returned to normal. However the people were now noticeably more suspicious or even openly hostile to them, and they no longer tarried in the towns or frequented any of the inns along the road as they once had, preferring to halt in the wild. They were always a source of great fascination to me, for I knew their fair and youthful faces belied their immense age, and we must have seemed like mayflies and of little consequence to them.  
Though I had now served the Kingdoms of Arthedain and Cardolan faithfully for several years I had seen very little of them other than the largely empty eastlands, along with the occasional visit to the inns at Bree. Prince Merendir, now a good friend as well as our commander had vowed to remedy this and in the summer of 1344 a great pageant was announced in order to honour the two hundredth anniversary of the birth of King Malvegil. Our company was among those chosen to send men to take part in the parades, and it fell to the Amon Perin garrison to supply them. We cleaned and repaired our gear in readiness and began the long journey to Fornost full of anticipation at what lay ahead. Beyond Bree the North Road passed for many leagues through a wide open and sparsely populated land, but as Fornost neared the number of towns and villages increased. They were clearly prosperous places and their people appeared well dressed and content. My heart was gladdened by it, for in this land there was no sign of decline or decay. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Fornost itself however, for in comparison Lastbridge was little more than a market town in the country. Mighty walls enclosed a city of immense size filled with wide roads and great buildings, and at the centre on a low hill stood the citadel and palace. We truly felt like the proverbial cousins from the country as we marched through the gates and entered the place, marvelling at its scale and the beauty of its buildings, and the garrison where we were to be lodged during our stay was no less impressive in size and scope.   
The day soon came and the parade itself was a memorable experience, with many thousands of men and horse marching through the streets to acclaim from the crowds who had thronged there. We marched behind a company pennant as was the custom here, and ours carried a device bearing the black bear of Rhudaur surrounded by the stars of Arthedain. Many in the crowd seemed to know our tale, for in many places the applause grew louder as we passed, and our hearts were filled with pride and gratitude as a result. I knew that I was content to serve far away on the wild borders of their land for people such as these. The parade ended outside the city walls, where a great pavilion and fair had been erected, and it was there that the King took our salute as we marched past. He was seated on a high dais, with the Princes and many great Lords and Captains about him, and despite his immense age he still appeared hale and vigorous. He returned our salute and applauded us, and I saw Argeleb smile and lean over to speak to him as we passed. Afterwards we formed up on the field until the ceremonies were complete, after which we were stood down. We took full advantage of this, spending the rest of the day at leisure before returning to the barracks at evening via several very crowded inns. Prince Argeleb himself visited the barracks later and spoke to us briefly after we had eaten. He greeted Norchon as an old friend, and to my delight recognised me and expressed his pleasure at my return. “I wish that it might have been in different circumstances, but well met again Esteldir Of Northford” he said earnestly “perhaps there is still hope that all three Kingdoms of Arnor may one day be reunited, but until then we will all remain grateful for the courage and devotion to duty of the Exiles from Rhudaur and their service to our Kingdom”. We thanked him sincerely and spoke with him for a little while until duty called him elsewhere, and afterwards I marvelled again at his greatness and felt honoured that he had remembered me.  
We were given a few days to spend at our leisure before it would be time to return south, and I had not forgotten the promise I had made to Elien to seek for her if I was ever in Fornost. The following morning I set off seeking the Houses Of Healing, armed with ample advice as to where they could be found and what road to take. Nonetheless I did manage to lose my way and required the assistance of several passers by before I eventually reached the place, another very large and impressive building near the citadel. Within, I initially had difficulty finding anyone who knew of Elien or where I might find her, and when I did I was informed that she was not there. They did however tell me where I might find her lodgings when I told them who I was, and I made my way to the place in a narrow street a short distance away. A handsome woman of middle years answered the door, but her tidings were the same and Elien was not to be found there either. Disappointed, I left another message and began to retrace my steps.  
I was crossing a busy square where a large fountain played, when to my great surprise I heard my name called and there she was. She wore a plain dress, and her face was a little thinner and more lined than I remembered it, but she was as beautiful as ever, with her fair hair still short but now neatly cropped. We embraced happily and there was much laughter and merriment when we discovered that we had both been on the same unsuccessful errand. She had been in the crowd and watched us march past the day before but though she had tried she had been unable to find us afterwards. Now the rest of that fine summer day lay ahead, and we would be able to spend it together.


	104. Chapter 104

As we walked through the streets together Elien spoke animatedly of the course of her life since we had last parted, her eyes shining with happiness. Finding myself anew in her company stirred long forgotten feelings and I realised both how much I had missed her and also with something of a jolt how much I now desired her. The latter impulse caused me to feel a deal of confusion and guilt, which worsened when she quietly took my hand and kept it as we walked together. For there had only ever been one love in my life and to harbour such feelings for another, and one who had been her dearest friend felt like a betrayal. 

She told me that she had found it hard to begin with at the Houses of Healing, harder than she could ever have imagined, for her work had exposed her to all the worst suffering that men could endure. But she had devoted herself to it wholeheartedly and had at last been accepted as an apprentice to one of the wisest and most skilled Healers in Arthedain. As we spoke we reached the city walls, and I followed her through the doorway of a tower and climbed a long stair that eventually brought us out onto the ramparts, far above the street below. The view that now unfolded before us across the city was immediately familiar, for I realised that I had seen it before, glimpsed through the window in a vision in the Palantir. “It is a fine sight is it not?” asked Elien, following my gaze. “Lastbridge seems small and mean in comparison, and so many of its people were ragged and hungry, whereas here all prosper and things are as they should be. Of course there are some things I miss from my old life, but I am happier here than I ever was before. But what of you, Esteldir? I have often thought of you and wondered how you fared”. I looked into her lovely face, her grey eyes fixed on mine and the soft breeze ruffling her hair, and for a moment I found myself unable to speak. “I am content“ I replied after a pause “I serve with good men and we live well but plainly, ready for whatever may come, for I do not think this current peace will hold long. I serve under Prince Merendir, who I am sure you must remember, and he is as fine a captain and leader of men as any could wish to serve. Indeed I recall that when you met him he took a particular interest in you, and as far as I know he remains unmarried, though as the youngest of five brothers his prospects may be limited”. She laughed merrily at this, judging rightly that I teased her, but mention of that time prompted her to ask after some of the others who had travelled with us. After answering her as fully as I could on the matter I formed a question of my own but then felt foolish at my sudden reluctance to frame it. “And Thanguron?” I asked hoping I my voice would not catch as I spoke. “He seemed so devoted to you, are you now pledged to each other?” She laughed again, and shook her head, smiling. “Nay, nay. He was a sweet youth, and perhaps for a time he did give his heart to me when we were both lost and far from home, but he is like a bee in a summer meadow full of flowers now, his fame and reputation grow apace, and according to the gossips all the fine ladies in the city are a flutter over him. It is said that the King too favours him greatly and will often listen to him sing, but he has not forgotten whence he came and I am sure that he too would be glad to see you and the others again while you are here. But no, as for me, my heart is given to none, save one who I knew would never be able to return that affection. But like you I am content with my lot and devote myself to my duty in the service of others".

We stood silently on the wall, hands still clasped and lost in our own thoughts for a moment, gazing across the lands to the south. It brought to mind another time long ago when I had stood on a different battlement with another that I desired and lived to bitterly regret not declaring my true feelings to her when the opportunity had presented itself. But no sooner had the thought come to me than I dismissed it, telling myself that this was a different time and place. I did however release her hand and put my arm around her shoulder instead, and as I drew her to me she laid her head against me. When she eventually raised it again I saw there were tears running down her cheeks, and I immediately took her in my arms, where those tears turned for a short while into great gasping sobs. "Forgive me, I am being foolish" she said when she eventually drew away, smiling once again through her tears. "The day is too fine to be wasted in sadness and weeping to little purpose. Let us go down now and let me show you something of this place". With that she took my hand anew and we returned to the street below, spending the rest of the day seeking out the many fine sights the city had to offer. It was a day I will always remember, for despite my uncertainty it was the first time since the loss of Idhrethil that I had felt anything approaching true happiness, and after Elien had told me her heart was given to another the turmoil I had felt had diminished. Fornost was a truly magnificent place, and seemed by all appearances to be thriving, yet I learned from Elien that it had not always been the chief city of Arnor, and that another, even greater, had once stood to the north east but now lay in ruins. It seemed hard to comprehend that things might be in decline here too in Arthedain, and it was not a comfortable thought.

That wonderful day ended with a fine sunset, and we concluded it with an evening meal an inn close by Elien's lodgings. There I met many of those who were employed with her in her work at the Houses Of Healing and was heartened to see the evident high regard in which she was held by them. Afterwards I walked with her back to her home, and we said our farewells tenderly and with promises to return safely and without such delay next time. But our final embrace was warm and strong and after we parted my fragile equanimity regarding my feelings towards her was again thrown into doubt. The next day our company marched south, and I regret that I was unable to keep my promise to return promptly, for it would be several years before we met again. It was also something of a relief to return to Amon Sul, to a life untroubled by complications of the heart, but thereafter I often found myself thinking of her and pondering all that had passed between us.

From the spring of 1345 onwards Angmar once again began to test our defences, and yet again it became clear what a tremendous advantage the seeing stones conferred , for no incursion of orcs or northmen came unanticipated and they were slaughtered and driven back at every turn. This was never without cost, but if the King Of Angmar thought he could grind Arthedain down in the same way he had Rhudaur in a war of attrition then he would be greatly mistaken. For our own part we stood firm, successfully defending the stronghold at Amon Perin against numerous assaults and keeping the road open as far as the river for any who wished to travel it. The men of our company gained even greater renown during this time, and I was able at least in part to honour the vow I had made at Idhrethil's graveside.

The year before Argeleb came into the Kingship I returned to Amon Perin with my men after a patrol south of the road and was met with a summons from Merendir. He himself was newly returned from Amon Sul, so I assumed that it would be in regard to news or fresh orders from the Prince. However when I attended on him I found him to be in an unusually jovial mood, and was mystified as to what this might presage. After questioning me regarding the patrol, which had been uneventful he came to the matter in hand. "Esteldir, I have news for you" he said smiling "as you know I am lately come from the tower, where I met an old friend of ours who made a point of asking after your health and wellbeing, and for any news of you. They are newly posted there and would be pleased to make your acquaintance again next time you have occasion to return". I was initially mystified as to who this might be and my first thought was that Thanguron must have grown weary of his songs and of the attentions of the ladies of Fornost, but it did not seem very likely so I asked him who it could be that he spoke of. "The fair Lady Elien" was his reply "for she has completed her apprenticeship and joins the healers at the fortress, wishing to serve alongside her countrymen. She is a fine and most singular woman, for I deem beneath that gentle exterior lies a steely core, and I would also hazard that there is more to her than her tale suggests. But no matter, I know how close you were, and that you are due to be stood down, so should you wish to ride back with Arathor and his horsemen in the morning then I will make no objection". I thanked him profusely and went immediately to the stables to make arrangements for my return to the tower the following morning, full of happiness and anticipation at the thought of our impending reunion.


	105. Chapter 105

I found her in one of the dormitories in the House Of Healing doing her round of those who lay within, in the company of one of the elder leeches. She was dressed in the pale smock and cap that they all wore by custom and carried a scrip full of medicinal materials at her waist, and I was able to observe her unnoticed for a little while as she worked calmly and effectively. When I was finally observed she broke into a radiant smile, said a few words to her colleague and came over to where I had been standing in the doorway and we embraced. "I hoped you would come" she said simply "and I see you are well. Once I have finished these rounds my work here is done for the day, if you will wait for me below I will not keep you waiting long". She was a beautiful as ever, her face full of happiness and her manner poised and confident, and once again my feelings for her were stirred as I knew they would be. But they no longer troubled me, for I had long since reconciled myself to them.  
A short while later we stood upon the walls looking eastward, while the chilly autumnal wind tugged at our cloaks. The shadows were lengthening over the empty lands below, the evening light staining them orange and I stood at her side with my arm about her shoulders once again. This time I knew I would not falter but would open my heart to her for good or ill. "Elien" I asked her gently "I hope I do not ask something impertinent of you, but you once told me that your heart was given to one who could not return your love, who was he?" She turned towards me and smiled wistfully. "Nay, it is not impertinent of you, for we are old friends who have lived through much together and there can be no secrets between us. He was someone I came to know in Lastbridge, a fine man, strong and true and unlike so many of the others there who were devious and cruel. His humble origins would have made it impossible, but if I had been able to have his hand rather than that of Berthedir and the crown had passed to him instead perhaps much of what passed thereafter might have been averted. But his heart was given to another". I wondered who it could have been, Daeron perhaps, and I gathered myself and continued. "My lady, our days may be short and so I am compelled to speak plainly. I too gave my heart to another and I too lost them. Now we both find ourselves here, alone and far from everything that was once familiar to us, surely it cannot be wrong to accept the chance of any small amount of happiness that may come our way in these dark days? For whoever this man was that you gave your heart to so utterly, he is gone, but I am not, I remain at your side and say that I love you Elien of Rhudaur, if you will have me in his stead".  
To my initial horror and dismay her first reaction to laugh, but then her laughter was instantly followed by happy tears and she flung her arms around my neck and kissed me. "Oh you sweet fool" she exclaimed "of whom did you think I spoke? For I have loved you since the day we first met, but as your heart was given to my dearest Idhrethil I did all within my power to bring the two of you together and allow you the happiness I could never know. And then we lost her, and have grieved for her all these long years, and though I loved you still I could not dare presume that you could ever bring yourself to love another or that my feelings would ever be returned other than as a friend and companion. So I say to you too that I love you, Esteldir of Northford". Then I too wept a few tears of happiness of my own. We remained there long on the wall as the wind whipped up and night began to fall, before returning to the halls, filled with a happiness neither of us had dared hope we would ever know again. From that day forward we were pledged to each other, and brought each other much solace and comfort during many times of great danger and hardship in the years that followed. But thought it may have been considered unseemly by some we were never wed, for as Elien said we had already made other vows to duty that came first. Those duties often meant we were separated, and as a result our time together was made all the more precious by the knowledge that every parting that would follow might be our last.  
King Malvegil passed away the following year after reigning over the kingdom for seventy seven years and he was greatly mourned, for his rule had been wise and just and the land had prospered greatly under his guidance. He was laid to rest with great ceremony among his forefathers at Fornost, but this time it was rightly Norchon who was chosen to represent the exiles and I remained with Eryndir in command at Amon Perin. After the funeral sadness turned to joy and the new King was crowned in a great ceremony accompanied by much feasting and celebration, for Argeleb had taken the title of King of Arnor renewed rather than Arthedain, and the Princes of Cardolan swore allegiance to him and relinquished their own claims to sovereignty. It was naturally to Rhudaur that he next turned his attention, and a few months later when he came south to Amon Sul I was surprised and flattered to be summoned to the tower, for he wished to speak with me again.  
I was shown into the same room where we had met thirteen years earlier, and the scene was very much the same as it had been then, although Argeleb now wore a finer raiment along with a silver circlet on his brow. Otherwise he remained unchanged to look upon, and after I did my obeisance to him he put me at my ease and introduced me to his companions. Norgalad I was already familiar with, but the other, a gaunt looking man of advancing years with eyes that spoke of great intelligence and compassion was new to me and I assumed he had travelled with the King‘s party from Fornost. He was introduced to me as Lord Saelon, one of the King's most trusted and experience counsellors, and I immediately took a liking to him. After asking after my wellbeing the King quickly came to the matter in hand. “Esteldir, as you may recall my greatest desire has always been to reunite the sundered Kingdoms of Arnor for the betterment of all its peoples. Rhudaur has always stood apart, and the events of the last few years have made it even less likely that our offer will now be heard favourably. But now I have come into my Kingship I must at least make the attempt even if it is likely that it will be rebuffed, and so I intend to send an embassy to Lastbridge to offer our terms to the Hillman King. Lord Saelon has offered to act as my envoy, but few if any can match your knowledge of that land and its people, for you also speak the Hill Tongue and would be able to greatly aid him in his task. However I will not command you or any other to take part in this enterprise for it may well be perilous, so all those who take part must expressly do so of their own free will. We have had no commerce with Lastbridge and do not even know whether they will still respect a flag of parley, nor do we know how much influence Angmar now wields there. So I will think no less of any man who chooses not to take part, least of all one from your renowned Company. What say you? Do you require some time to consider this matter?" I shook my head and replied without hesitation."Nay my Lord King, I will do this thing you ask of me".  
Two days later we set off for Amon Perin, and Lord Saelon and I were accompanied by a small escort of mounted knights led by my old friend Amdir. It had been a wrench to be parted from Elien again so soon, but she was sanguine and told me that in my position she would have done just as I had. The first part of the journey passed pleasantly enough, for as I had suspected Saelon turned out to be a most satisfactory travelling companion, a man of rare wit with an immense knowledge of many diverse subjects. From him I learned a great deal regarding the history and policies of Arthedain, and he was keen to learn as much as he could from me regarding Rhudaur, though he already seemed to be uncommonly well versed on the subject. I also enjoyed Amdir's company, and the irony of the situation we now found ourselves in was not lost on us, for he had once escorted my embassy westward from Rhudaur and now we rode to the same purpose in the opposite direction.  
After spending a night in the familiar surroundings of Amon Perin we continued our journey into the empty lands beyond, and met a party of dwarves marching westward who told us they had seen nothing amiss along the road or during their passage through Lastbridge. Our mood could not help become increasingly sombre however as we began to near our destination, especially after we had paused for a while by the grave of Idhrethil and all the others who had died that fateful day. My grief for her was all the sharper given the happiness I had lately felt with Elien, and I realised with a pang that this would be the first time that I would reach Lastbridge and she would not be there waiting for me. Saelon, seeing my discomfiture offered me words of comfort as we rested later that night, and then listened with interest and kindness to the long tale of our doomed love. "You have endured much" he told me when I had done "now let us see if we can ensure that at least some small part of it might not have been in vain, and attempt to bring lasting peace to these long suffering lands".   
Our rest was untroubled that night, and when we returned to the road in the morning no guard or patrol hindered our progress until we reach the towers of the West Gate. The gates themselves were resolutely shut against us, and though we reached them only a few hours after sunrise they were not opened before nearly noon, for the guards must have sent for instruction to the citadel. But we were not fired upon from the walls, and none assailed us as we entered under the familiar stonework of the arch, so it was as auspicious a beginning to our embassy as we could possibly have hoped for.


	106. Chapter 106

My first impression after I re-entered Lastbridge and we crossed the river over the famous stone bridge was how little things seemed to have changed in the intervening years since I had last been there. If anything the streets were now even more crowded, and there seemed to be many more Hill Folk amongst the throng than would have been the case before. One thing I did notice immediately that had changed however were the devices on the flags and the surcoats of the guards at the gate, for where the black bear under a Dunedain king had been a somewhat lifelike silhouette, its replacement was markedly more fierce with wild eyes, sharp fangs and claws and a lolling tongue. There also seemed to be far fewer if any of the destitute wretches who had lined the streets in the years before the fall, the whole place seemed markedly more prosperous.

We were regarded with curiosity or indifference rather than any actual hostility by the majority of the people we passed, and our guards who to my relief were mostly Hillmen for I did not want to run the risk of being recognised, spoke little to us as we made our way towards the citadel. I pointed out various landmarks to Saelon as we went, and he responded with interest, for he was apparently calm and untroubled by what lay ahead. My admiration for him continued to grow.

As we approached the fortress I saw that the walls had been decorated in a curious manner, and as we began the steep climb to the gate and came nearer I realised with a shock what they were, for the eyeless sockets of many skulls and a few more recently severed heads watched us pass atop poles in gruesome silence as we passed. “Who were they?” I asked one of our escort in the common tongue. “Traitors, rebels and thieving Westermen” was his scornful reply “enemies of the King, they stand on these walls as a warning to any others of like mind who would oppose his rule or attempt to thwart him”. I wondered in disgust and dismay if I might have known some of them in life, and riding beside me Saelon looked visibly shaken at the sight. “I pray that this abomination is a new tradition and did not take place under the rule of Dunedain Kings?” he asked me “for to disrespect the dead thus, even sworn enemies is the work of dark and evil men”. I was only too pleased to set his mind at rest on the matter, but it unsettled me to see him suddenly lose his composure.

 

The Fortress too was bustling, with the great courtyard full of activity and with signs of rebuilding and recent repairs everywhere. Once we arrived at the Citadel we dismounted, and leaving our escort and arms at the gate Saelon and I were led along what had once been for me the familiar way to the King’s chambers and great hall. The many rotting tapestries and dusty relics that had littered the place in the old days were all gone and the whole place now had an altogether more brisk and workmanlike air, which although strange to me was not wholly against my liking. Our escort, a blunt Hillman in traditional dress led us to one of the antechambers outside the throne room, where we were told to await the King’s pleasure. Beyond the great oak doors the clamour of many voices rose and fell, though it was difficult to make out what was said, and we remained there for some considerable length of time without being offered any refreshment. Saelon bore this with good humour however, describing it as a common tactic on the part of a host to discomfit him and attempt to place him at a disadvantage, something which he had expected and gave him no concern.

Finally someone came and we were shown into the throne room, which was crowded and stuffy. A watchful silence fell as we entered, and we made our way up the aisle towards the throne where the King was seated. I have to admit that he made a fine sight, for Ulfred son of Ulfraer was a handsome man, powerfully built, clearly possessed of great intelligence and a natural leader of men, very much like his father before him. He was slumped comfortably on the old carved throne of Rhudaur, the crown resting easily on his head, and he viewed us with a mixture of curiosity and contempt as we approached. But it was not the sight of the King that almost stopped me in my tracks in surprise, but the advisors who stood close by him, for I could scarce credit what my eyes beheld. For there, foremost amongst them and seated at the King’s right hand, his faced deathly pale and dressed in black like a great lurking spider was none other than Lord Barachon himself. A thrill of fear ran through me when our eyes met for I saw at once that he knew me too, and I knew that I that I had walked into a trap.

But if Saelon noticed me falter he gave no sign of it, and spoke clearly to the hall, standing tall and proud. “Hail King Ulfred of Rhudaur, I, Lord Saelon of Nenuial in Arthedain do bring you the fraternal greetings and good wishes of King Argeleb of Arnor and his people, and wish to present his offer to you if you will hear it”. The King acknowledged this with the slightest of nods, and Saelon continued. “Nigh on five hundred years ago, Arnor was sundered and the three kingdoms of Arthedain, Cardolan and Rhudaur came into being. They have been divided amongst themselves ever since to the detriment of all, for neither Cardolan or Rhudaur have prospered in that time, and there has been much blood spilt and much suffering endured in vain. Now all three realms stand at a crossroads, and we have an opportunity to right these ancient wrongs. Already Cardolan and Arthedain have joined together for the greater good of both; now we extend the hand of friendship to Rhudaur also, not from any desire for conquest or dominion, but so that that her people may also benefit from this union. For no Kingdom can now hope to endure alone and friendless in the times in which we find ourselves. These are the words of Argeleb, King of Arnor. What reply will you give?” 

Saelon’s voice was musical and his tone amicable and persuasive, and a man of lesser will might have been swayed, but I saw at once that they were not well received, just as we had feared. Ulfred sat up straight and gripped the arms of the throne tightly. “I need no time or counsel to consider this matter, and you shall have my reply to give to your King. For fifteen years or more I was forced to live in exile in the wild in the foothills of the mountains by a Westerman king who sat idle while the land fell into decline and his people starved and became destitute, and my own were enslaved or put to the sword. Now we are rid of your kings none go hungry and the land prospers once again and yet you dare to come here and expect us to accept your rule once again?" His voice rose and there was genuine anger in it. "Tell your king that we reject his offer utterly, and consider it insolent and hostile. And we warn him that should he think to come against us in force of arms when honeyed words have failed him then he will find that we too are not without friends. Now get thee gone from this place else I have a change of heart and cleave your heads from your shoulders, rule of parley or no".

The audience was clearly at an end and those looking on within the chamber began to murmur excitedly amongst themselves, but Saelon was not to be deterred, and maintaining his air of calm dignity thanked the King before bowing and turning from the hall. I followed suit, hardly daring to breathe, for Barachon’s eyes had been on me the whole time we had been standing there, boring into me, and as we turned to go he leant across and whispered something into Ulfred’s ear. I braced myself for what would come next, perhaps an order to the guards to seize me as a traitor and deserter, and knew the fear of the rat caught in a trap, powerless and unable to defend himself, for here I was, unarmed, hopelessly outnumbered and very far from home. It was a bitter thing to so suddenly find myself thus at the mercy of an old enemy when I now had so much to live for, and I cursed the cruel tides of fate that always seemed to withdraw any chance of happiness just when it had been within my grasp. But remarkably the order to detain me never came, we cleared the doors of the chamber and we began to make our way at a smart walk down the passages towards the gatehouse. I still did not dare hope that I would be allowed to leave, but my fear began to subside once we reached the gatehouse and I had my weapons returned to me and was able to remount my horse. “What ails thee Esteldir? Saelon asked me in Sindarin as we crossed the great courtyard with a very relieved Amdir and his men “you look like you have seen a ghost”. My reply was curt. “Indeed, I think that is exactly what I have seen”. I explained to him who it was that had been sat at the King’s right hand, and that he had recognised me, and he frowned and became thoughtful. “This is a riddle indeed, and I fear the answer to it must be an ill one, for I know that this Barachon was one of King Elion’s most powerful Lords and a scourge of the Hillmen, and yet we have found him here still in a position of power and influence. I see the hand of Angmar in this, and I must tell Argeleb to prepare for war, for it will surely come now”. We rode back the way we had come, through the bustling streets, and once we had crossed the old bridge and then passed out through the West Gate I finally allowed my fear to turn to relief.

I do not know to this day why Barachon did not have me seized and executed as a deserter, for it would have been in his power to do so, but he chose not to. Perhaps I knew too much regarding his own misdeeds and he deemed the trouble this might cause him did not warrant the small satisfaction of seeing my head planted on the battlements. Whatever it was, his continued presence in Lastbridge was deeply troubling and Saelon and I discussed it at length on the journey back to Amon Sul and on many occasions afterwards, trying to understand what it might mean. For my own part I believe the seeds of Barachon’s treachery were first sown long before in his youth, when he beheld the King of Angmar himself at the battle of the Northern Plain and saw him strike down and wound his friend King Elion, for he was said to be a man of great stature and power, like to one of the old Numenorean Kings. Then there were the Silver Captains, Dunedain from far off lands who served Angmar and were captured during the first battles at Northford. No one knew what became of them after, or what messages or promises they might have carried to their captor, but at some point he must have secretly entered the service of Carn Dum. From then on, with the King weak and ailing he was able to deliberately influence his policies and actions to his own ends, sowing discord and weakening our defences at every turn. Many years have passed since those times and distance often enables us to see things more clearly, and it is now possible to imagine his influence in much of what befell us. The long and deliberate weakening of the defences in the north, the eventual abandonment of Northford and the brutal treatment meted out to the Hillmen would all have served his purpose, as did the suspiciously easy victory over Ulfred’s rebellion and above all the doomed campaign to retake Amon Sul. The latter adventure stripped the kingdom of its heir and the remainder of its strength in arms after which the victory of the Hillmen, supported by a large part of the common people weary of war and hunger, was assured.


	107. Chapter 107

What followed in the next few years is well known, and I will not recount my part in it at great length, for it no longer directly concerns the sad history of the land of Rhudaur save as an increasingly implacable foe. After the rejection of his embassy King Argeleb, now certain that Ulfred was in league with Angmar and would soon commence a new assault on his borders ordered that further fortifications be constructed along the Weather Hills. These would provide a bulwark against attack from the east, for while Amon Sul was held the Great East Road would remain closed to our foes, representing as it did by far the best and quickest route westward for any great host. To the regret of Prince Merendir and those who had built the place and served there the outpost at Amon Perin was abandoned and destroyed at this time, for it was not deemed strong enough to withstand any kind of sustained assault and there were fewer travellers on the road now Rhudaur had grown markedly more hostile. We returned to Amon Sul, which happily allowed me to spend more time with Elien, and our company became involved in the work of constructing the new fortifications. This duty, though arduous and sometimes dangerous was something I found immensely satisfying and it allowed me to learn something of the trade of stonemason that I had once contemplated as an alternative to soldiering.  
In 1352, with the new defences only partially complete we were called upon to repel the first of numerous attacks from Rhudaur and Angmar. A large host, swelled by Northmen and Orcs marched from Lastbridge and the two armies met again at what became known as the Battle Vale. There for the first time we were pitted directly against our own countrymen, and though it was a bitter thing we gave them no quarter and drove their host back along the road after a hard fight. Once again the cavalry of Arthedain proved decisive for despite greater numbers they had no horse of their own to counter with and it left them at a disadvantage. Prince Arveleg commanded that day and had the victory, and he proved himself a courageous and adept leader. The few prisoners and we took during the battle, some of them willing deserters who afterwards joined our ranks brought us ill tidings from our homeland. The initial peace and prosperity that had marked the early years of King Ulfred’s rule was now at an end, and he had grown increasingly high handed and cruel. Those of obvious Dunedain lineage who held land or property were often singled out, their holdings appropriated and their captive menfolk sent north out of Rhudaur to an uncertain fate. In time shortage and hunger returned to haunt the Kingdom too, for after the ever growing armies and Angmar had taken their due there was often not enough left from the harvests to meet the needs of the remainder of the population.  
We had to repel further assaults in the years before the fateful events of 1356, and during that time Norchon was slain, and his loss was greatly mourned by all who had known him. He was one of the finest and bravest men I had the honour to serve alongside and the King himself came to Amon Sul and said the words of departure for him at his burial, for they had been fast friends. He was replaced as captain of the company of exiles by Eryndir, who I had grown to love as a brother, but he was destined to hold the position for just a short time before he too was slain during an ambush. Afterwards the captaincy passed to me, though others amongst us could equally have served.   
The winter of 1355 was the worst for many years and for a while we became prisoners on our hilltops, and were forced to go on short rations just as some of us had many years before in Northford. But eventually spring came, and with it signs that the enemy was planning a greater assault upon us than any we had previously seen. The stone saw countless men and orcs marching southward out of Angmar and the Shaws and massing at Bearcliffe and Lastbridge. Word was sent at once to Fornost, and preparations put in place to bolster our numbers, and soon a mighty host stood camped at the foot of the hill and the King himself returned and took command of the defence. My parting from Elien at the Tower was full of foreboding and sadness, for we knew that this time more than many others before might be our last, and that the great battle that lay ahead would change the course of many lives.  
They came soon afterwards, the greatest host seen in the north since the time of the Last Alliance, like a dark cloud spread across the plain as far as the eye could see. It was rumoured the King Of Angmar himself rode with them and commanded them, though afterwards none reported having seen him in the field. The Silver Captains however had returned, and rode hither and thither on black horses, commanding and marshalling their hosts in accord with their master's bidding. We met them on the plain below the hill, for as great as the host of Arthedain was we were outnumbered and Argeleb wished to leave open the possibility of retreat to the line of fortresses on the hills open should the day go against us. I gave no speech to my men as we waited for the order to advance, for none was needed, for they were all veterans now of many battles and their fierce devotion to duty had won them much renown. We fought on the right flank, amongst the companies of foot from Cardolan and faced orcs and northmen, and though at first we clove through their ranks like fire through a summer forest their numbers were so great that our advance stalled and we risked being cut off. Long did we fight that day, until their dead lay scattered as thick as the leaves on a forest floor, but still they came and now exhausted, the tide began to turn against us. We fell back, but our host had become divided and we were unable to regain the hills, instead being driven south and west away from the road. Elsewhere disaster had struck, for during the retreat an enemy archer had loosed a hopeful shot towards our lines and found a mark, for King Argeleb was felled by a shaft that caught him by mischance between gorget and breastplate. His guard carried him with all haste up to the fortress but he was dead by the time he reached the gate. Thus passed the mightiest King of our age.  
But we knew nothing of this until later, and once clear of our pursuers we set about regrouping in the empty lands in the fading light of evening. The enemy, intent on the fortresses had made what turned out to be a grave error when they ceased their pursuit for not only did they let slip a sizeable part of the our host but also the Princes Arveleg and Merendir. Although tired and hungry we maintained our order and discipline and after a cold night in the open formed up and marched west for Bree. Prince Arveleg had wisely decided not to spend the lives of any more of his men unnecessarily in trying to regain the fortresses, which had been well provisioned and were prepared for the possibility of a lengthy siege, and instead we went west to rest and regroup and wait for reinforcements with which to mount a relief. So long as the fortresses stood firm the enemy would find themselves, as Rhudaur had in times past, having to support a large force in a barren and empty land, with the inevitable difficulties this would cause.  
So it was that we remained at Bree for three weeks whilst reinforcements arrived from the north and west. But it was the last of those to come from the west who gave us greatest heart and certainty of victory, for to our astonishment when Prince Merendir returned from Ost-en-Tyrn with all the remaining strength of Cardolan they were accompanied by a host of the Elder folk from Lindon, led by their Prince Cirdan. Like a vision from a tale of ancient times they were, splendid and terrible, their spear tips and silver armour catching fire in the reflected light of the setting sun when we first beheld them. They sang too, a song of great beauty still, but now filled with strength and ancient rage, and our spirits were raised further when we heard it for we knew we would be avenged for the death of our King and all the others we had lost. So it proved, for the sudden arrival of Cirdan's host filled our foe with terror and none could withstand them. Then the fortresses were opened and our forces streamed down from the hills and joined the slaughter and the hosts of Angmar and Rhudaur, weakened by the long siege, were broken and utterly routed.   
The victory of Prince Arveleg, soon to be King, was complete, but for my own Company the campaign had been an expensive one and almost half our former strength were now slain or wounded. So it was that the joy Elien and I felt at our reunion afterwards, something which we had barely dared hope for, was tempered by grief at the loss of so many of our good friends and countrymen. But the new King Arveleg, who had once viewed the exiles with suspicion and doubt now commended our service in the highest terms and spoke the words of departure for our fallen himself when they were laid to rest in the earth afterwards.  
Though the defeat of Angmar and Rhudaur had come at a heavy price, it bought the Kingdom of Arnor many long years of peace. Arveleg, like his father was a man of vision and was quick to take advantage of the new situation, rebuilding the fort at Amon Perin and establishing further strongholds along the road and the west bank of the Hoarwell to keep watch on the enemy and prevent them from crossing the river in strength again. To that end the following year we besieged and captured the West Gate at Lastbridge and drove the enemy back across the bridge, and the exiles of Rhudaur were once again in the forefront of that battle. Once taken, the west bank was quickly fortified and a second rampart and gate erected using stone from the many buildings on that side of the river, denying Rhudaur the river crossing and any further access to the road west. But we advanced no further, for our commanders judged that it did not warrant the losses that would surely follow such a move, and so we remained where we were, tantalisingly close to our former home. That home now had a somewhat desolate air about it, for notwithstanding the effect of our presence it appeared that the streets were much quieter than they had once been and many of the buildings we could see from our vantage point were disused and falling into ruin. The great fortress and citadel still loomed over the place though, and when I thought that the evil traitor Barachon might still be lurking within those walls I was filled with hatred and I longed to be avenged upon him for all his treacherous deeds.  
But it was a revenge that I was never able to taste, for it was whilst we were fortifying the bridge that I was subject to a misadventure that irrevocably changed the course of my life. A stone block that was being lifted onto the new rampart came loose, toppled and struck me on the shoulder. The blow shattered the bones within and I knew at once that I would never wield a sword again. It was a bitter thing indeed for one who had come through some of the greatest battles of the age almost unscathed to be brought low by such a petty mischance.


	108. Chapter 108

I was taken back to Amon Sul in terrible pain and became feverish for a time, but the Healers including my beloved Elien did their best to quench it and set my broken bones. Through their skill and wisdom, I, like so many others who passed through their halls was given another chance and regained some small use of my sword arm and hand in time. I was however filled with despair, for I would no longer be able to fulfil my vow and feared that I would be sent away from Amon Sul, though I knew that the soldiers of Arnor were not cast aside to fend for themselves when they could no longer fight as had been the case in my own land. But it was the wisdom and strength of Elien that saved me, for she saw my despair and spoke wise and gentle words to comfort me. "Esteldir, eighteen years have now passed since we said farewell to our dearest Idhrethil and you swore your oath of vengeance upon those who slew her. In that time you have fulfilled your vow a hundred times over, facing terrible danger and hardship with selfless courage. Now it is time to find another way to serve, for not all wield a blade when they go into battle seeking to defeat the purposes of the enemy. And I will say for my own part that I will not miss watching you march away from these walls again knowing that it might be the last time I ever see you , for each time it has been a pain almost beyond enduring". Tears sprang to her eyes at this and I was filled with love and renewed hope seeing the wisdom in her words. We held each other close for a long while after in wordless silence.  
In the days afterwards I was summoned by Lord Norgalad at the tower, and though I first received from him the order of discharge from my duties as a soldier that I had been expecting I then discovered to my great joy that I was not to be sent away as I had feared. He graciously offered me a position as a steward at the tower, to assist and advise him in the course of his duties, and I naturally accepted without hesitation for I deemed this to be a great honour and a clear mark of his approbation. Not only would I now be able to remain with Elien but I would have the opportunity to serve this remarkable man and learn much of the workings of the Tower and Kingdom and perhaps also more of the lore of the stones and the marvellous library. So it proved, and though it was hard at first to know I had been replaced see my men march away without me I soon became used to my new position and the years that followed were among the happiest and most contented of my life. I proved an adept servant to Lord Norgalad, and I was able to put my knowledge of our enemy and the eastern lands and my growing skills as a scribe to good use in his service. But in 1375, after twenty seven happy years I knew sorrow once again in full measure, for Elien was taken from me in her prime after suddenly falling ill with a fever. It had seemed nothing at first, but she declined very quickly and died a few days later as I watched over her at her bedside. Thus did I lose my love, the truest, bravest and most beautiful companion any man could have known, Elien, high born and last of the line of the Dunedain Kings of Rhudaur. I have been blessed to have had two great loves in my life, but equally cursed in that I outlived them both and had to stood by their graves to speak the words of departure for them. But as it is often said it is better to love truly for one day and grieve for one thousand more than never to love at all, and I count myself to have been a fortunate man indeed for the life I have lived.  
Now after many long years of peace storm clouds are gathering once more and we will soon face the full might of the enemy again, for one by one our strongholds in the east have fallen and we have been driven back from the river and the bridge. Just as they did over fifty years since the hosts of Angmar now pour southward over the fords into Rhudaur, but it is a very different land to the one it was then for now it lies ravaged, ruined and half empty. For in the end the Hillmen were deceived and betrayed and they have become little more than thralls to the Kingdom of Angmar.  
I am ninety seven years old now and I begin to grow old and infirm, for the blood of the west always ran thinner in the veins of the men of Rhudaur than in those of Arthedain, and in my own case it was further divided. Few if any of the exiles of Rhudaur now remain, for age and long years of war have taken their toll on us and there are none who now live who can remember the land of Rhudaur as it once was in my Grandfather's time, peaceful and prosperous enough, even if false pride estranged us from our kin and led us to disaster in the end. For Rhudaur was a fair and rugged land of river, crag and vale, lowland and forest, her people proud and resourceful, her towns and keeps ancient and well wrought. But little now remains from that time, and since it seems all other records and histories must now be lost I conclude this account in the hope that it will serve as a lasting testament to all that was good and noble in the land of my birth before it fell into darkness and despair.


End file.
